


This Disappearing World

by Helen8462



Series: Distorted Reflection [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Action, Adventure, F/M, Iconian Civilization, Mirror Universe, Prompt Fic, Relationship Stuff, Something Ancient, competition fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-14 03:48:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12999207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helen8462/pseuds/Helen8462
Summary: With the future of their relationship in question, an excursion leads Janeway and Chakotay into the midst of unfathomable danger.  While fighting to save everything they hold dear, they will learn more about each other, and a strangely different universe, then they ever thought possible.





	1. Speak your truth quietly and clearly

**Author's Note:**

> _**Official Business:**_ This story is my entry for Gamma Group, Second Round of the JC Cutthroat Fiction Competition. Due Dec 30, 2017.  
>  The prompt was: "Members of the Voyager crew encounter someone or something ancient."
> 
>  _ **Thank Yous:**_ This story never - _ever_ \- would have succeeded had it not been for my incredible friend and ever-patient beta, [MiaCooper](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaCooper/pseuds/MiaCooper). She put hours and hours into this for me, often with no end in sight. She is a true gem in this fandom and I'm so glad I have her in my life. Thank you, Mia. ([Her story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12738426/chapters/29050425) is amazing, be sure to read it.)
> 
> I also need to thank Miss_Mil for brainstorming with me very early on; the numerous people that I called upon for help/ideas on various sections; the ladies that preread and commented. Espcially Klugtiger, who was so very helpful. But they all helped me form and polish this and I'm so grateful - you all know who you are and I love you! Of course, this story wouldn't have even been imagined had it not been for Talsi74656 and her wicked competition, so in reality, this is for her. Thank you, marvelous person.
> 
>  _ **Author's Note:**_ When this round started, I never thought I'd end up with a story that was so involved. This plot consumed me for two months and ended up almost three times longer than anything I've done before. It seems fitting that it will be the last piece published in my first year of writing, as it feels like a final paper. Thank you to all my faithful readers and fandom friends. This year has certainly been memorable. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 

The curtain of night descended upon them, darkness punctuated by the lights of the San Francisco skyline and innumerable stars above.  Though it held their attention briefly, the outside world quickly disappeared into ecstasy wrapped in satin lace, that moment extended in his strong embrace, exhausted on a heated breath, dissolved shortly after into an unending, soft caress.  “I love you,” he vowed as she shuddered around him. 

The side of her neck was soft and warm under his lips.  He felt her approval rise as vibration from a chuckle born deep in her chest, drifting upward to end on a sigh.  Trapped in a mutually passionate grip, he drew his hand, rough and large, against her pale flesh, down the center-side of her, brushing past breast and stomach, hip and thigh, coming to rest near where they were as one.

“I love you,” he whispered again into that most delicate part of her pulse, repeating once more, “I love you,” in case there was any doubt.

She turned her head sharply, devouring his words with her kiss.  He hoped that the intent behind her act was an affirmation of her own feelings for him and not a distraction from them.  He was given little chance to consider the matter as she thrust forward and around, pulling him over the edge along with her to a chorus of their own names. 

“Stay,” he pleaded as she fell back against the pillow.  She rolled and tucked herself around him and the shade of night drew close as covers, beckoning him into blissful dreams.

“Stay,” he whispered just before sleep claimed him.

But, as always, she failed to obey.

When he woke, she was gone.

* * *

Kathryn was halfway through her third cup of coffee by the time that expected chime rang at her door.  Hastily, she folded the last of her clothing, tucked it into her carry bag, and went to answer, tossing her uniform jacket onto the couch as she strode past.

“You’re running late today, Chakotay,” she chided with a teasing smile.  “Did I wear you out last night?”

His arm found its way around her waist and he answered her with a kiss.  “That must be it,” he admitted, licking away the remains of her coffee from his lips.  He eyed her trademark pristine appearance, crisp uniform pants and a perfectly fit crimson shirt with bars on the collar.  Even her shoes seemed to have been recently spit-shined.  “Or I didn’t wear you out enough.  In any event, you’re up too early for my taste.”

“This is nothing compared to the mornings we used to pull on _Voyager,_ ” she reminded, leading him to the kitchen.

“We’re not on _Voyager_ anymore.”

“Obviously.”  She raised an eyebrow at him, allowing her gaze to wander a trail from his dark eyes, past where his tongue was still enjoying the taste of her, and down his long torso.  After a year it no longer took her off-guard to see him dressed casually as it had when he first resigned his commission.  Button-down shirts and khaki trousers suited him quite well, she had decided.  Though as it had when she was with Mark, it made her oddly uncomfortable to be in uniform while in his company. 

Pulling herself away, she pressed a button on the replicator and a mug of steaming water appeared.  Into it she dropped two generous helpings of tea leaves from a canister on the counter.

“You know, you didn’t have to run out on me.”  He slid onto a stool at the high-top bar which surrounded the kitchen.  “It was our last night together for a while, I rather hoped you’d stay.”

“Oh, I thought about it but then I’d just be up early to get back here and pack anyway,” she waved him off.  “I didn’t want to wake you, I know you have to wrangle all those eager cadets later.”

“Kathryn…”

She sighed, bringing her own mug to her lips.  “Yes?”

“Look, I know we haven’t discussed this before, but you wouldn’t have to leave if you just lived with me.”

At this she nearly choked on her drink and then laughed uncomfortably.  “Lived with you?”

“I didn’t make the suggestion to be funny.”

“I’m not laughing because I think it’s funny.”

“Good, because the only thing funny here is that we spent seven years unable to be more than three hundred meters apart, but not allowed to be together, and now that we can be together –“

“We’re apart.  Yes.  Well, I’m trying to be practical.  We lead very different lives on very different schedules, Chakotay.  Besides, I’ve lived alone for a long time.  For the last year since we’ve been home, seven before that and even before _Voyager_ I lived in my own house away from Mark.  I just…”

“You don’t like to share space?”

She wagged her head back and forth.  “That’s not exactly it.”

“Then what?” he asked.  Sensing his frustration rise, he quickly tempered it back down.  “Okay, forget that I asked you to move in.  Can you just wake up in the same bed with me in the morning?  We’ve been, well, whatever we are, for six months and not once have you stayed.”

“I –“ Her response was cut short when an incoming communication bleeped its interruption.  “I have to get that.”

Chakotay sighed and watched her hastily depart the kitchen.  He took a biscuit from the platter on the bar and broke it apart, watching the crumbs scatter on the countertop.  He pressed them together with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning her head into the room from the doorway.  “I have to leave.”

“Already? I thought you had until this afternoon.”

“Admiral Nechayev has called an all-hands briefing.  I have to attend before we depart.”

“Oh.”

“We’ll discuss your… _suggestion_ when I return.  I promise,” she said, heading toward her bedroom to gather her things.

He diverted his eyes back to the mess he had made by absentmindedly picking at his food.

“I’ll be back in six weeks, seven at the most,” she shouted down the hall.  “The time will fly by, you’ll see.”

“It always does,” he lied, looking to his mug.  The steam rose in swirls then dissipated into the air.

“You can let yourself out?” she asked, hurrying by the counter once again.  Bag swinging over her shoulder, she stopped only briefly to kiss him on the cheek before heading toward the exit.

“Yes.  I’ll let myself out,” he replied to the back of the door.


	2. Whatever your labors and aspirations

* * *

Chakotay left Kathryn’s apartment and was greeted by the first warm day after an especially long and bitter winter.  Grateful for the change, he made it a point to soak up as much sunshine and fresh air as possible. 

To that end, he had usurped a bistro table outside the building which held his office and turned it into his desk for the morning.  There, he proceeded to lose himself in a sea of lesson plans and test scores, final exam preparations and graduation approvals until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“That was a fascinating lecture you gave on the Nakan, Professor.”

Chakotay looked up from his smattering of padds with a smile.

“I’m glad you enjoyed what I had to say, Professor Lichten.”  He motioned for his much older guest to join him.  Around them, cadets bustled about the quad headed to and from their studies.

“I have many, many more questions for you on your experiences with the memorial,” the white-haired man said, settling into a seat.  “And I hope to be around long enough to hear a similar recount of every other species you encountered in the Delta Quadrant.  But first, a most important query.  Why are you teaching Tactical Analysis and not Archeology?”

“Ah,” Chakotay laughed, leaning back.  “You’re not trying to recruit me, are you?”

“I most certainly am,” Lichten confessed with a smile.  “The department is abuzz devouring the reports you’ve filed from _Voyager’s_ time in the Delta Quadrant.  They are the most in-depth analyses we’ve seen come off of that fine ship.  Don’t tell me that this is just a passing hobby for you.”

“At most it’s a passing hobby,” he admitted.  “And you’ve done me a great honor in letting me lecture in your stead yesterday, so thank you for that.”

“Please, anytime.  Take my podium,” the professor chuckled, smile evident behind his overgrown, wiry moustache.  “I’m getting too old for this, Mr. Chakotay.  Archeology is a young man’s game.  To be a good teacher of it, one has to live it.  Breathe it.  Have it permanently stuck under his fingernails.  The way I once did.  The way _you_ still can.”

“I’m afraid I’m simply not qualified,” Chakotay admitted, reaching for his mug of long-cooled coffee.  “Besides, I think that Admiral Namimby would have my hide if I handed him another resignation.”

“Well, I’ll have to have a word with Namimby.  He still owes me a favor or two,” the man winked.  “In any case, semester is breaking for three weeks, I have it on good authority that your lady friend is out on the job –“

Chakotay choked on his drink.  “My _lady_ friend?”

“Don’t play coy with me, young man.  I do my homework.  She’s leaving right now if I’m not mistaken.”

“Fair enough,” he conceeded.  “You were going to ask me something?”

Lichten folded his hands dramatically in front of him, leaned forward on his elbows and looked suspiciously around at the passersby.  Then he licked his lips and said softly, “How would you like a little adventure?”

Chakotay leaned in, humoring the man’s flair for the dramatic, and whispered, “What kind of adventure?”

The elderly professor grinned behind his whiskers and sat back.  “One of the most notable  _former_  members of the Federation Archeology Council has disappeared.  Her name is Vash and I have it on good authority from my colleagues at the Daystrom Institute that she has been hunting for Iconian relics.”

“She’s no longer with the Council?  But she’s still out in the field?” Chakotay questioned. 

“She’s an archeologist, and a damned good one.  Unfortunately she’s a better thief.”  The Professor waved his hand, dismissing the topic.  “We don’t need to get into that right now.”

“Okay… Iconia is in Romulan territory,” Chakotay pondered.  “Even with the treaty, that's not –“

“The location of Iconia has been classified,” Licheten said, eyeing him with a smile.  “But I’m pleased to see you’re well versed in ancient history.  We know that the Iconians had gateways which took them through space and time, yes?  To many different worlds in the blink of an eye?  Vash spent the better part of the last five years tracing them across three quadrants only to have run around somewhere near the Alamatha Nebula.  We’ve narrowed her location to one of about four star systems.”

“That nebula is well over the border into Cardassian space.  Another not-so-great-place to be, not to mention it's never been connected with the Iconians.”  Chakotay’s brow furrowed in an attempt to make sense of the jumble of information.

“Indeed,” the professor nodded, then raised a bony finger.  “But, the Cardassian borders have never been more open to Federation citizens than they are right now.  It’s the prime time to do a bit of exploring, not to mention we need to find Vash.”

“That’s all well and good, professor, but why ask me?  We’ve already established that I’m not an archeologist.”

“You possess a unique set of skills that makes you perfect for this mission.  You’re a pilot, a tactician – in case the Cardassians do give you trouble.  You have the ability to track people through wilderness and you’ve got that little bit of Iconian knowledge, don’t you?” the Professor tapped his head.  “The way I see it, you can have an adventure, do us a favor, and then swing by Dorvan V to say hello to your sister…”

Chakotay eyed the professor. “You really do your homework, don’t you?”

Lichten smiled again and stroked his bearded chin.  “I’m quite certain you’re the perfect choice.”

“Why is it so important to find this Vash woman?  If she’s really as unscrupulous as she’s been painted, why not just let her be lost?  It’s possible she doesn’t want to be found.”

“She’s got friends in high places who are concerned for her well-being.  And the Iconian artifacts that she’s been collecting are of particular interest for several reasons that I won’t go into here,” he finished, looking around suspiciously again.

Chakotay let out a deeply held breath and tried not to judge the older man’s faculties too harshly.

“I have an eager cadet ready to accompany you,” Lichten said, reaching for the coursework padds which had been scattered about the table.  One by one, Chakotay watched as they were stacked into a neat pile then very deliberately slid with an open hand out of the way.  In their spot, Lichten delicately placed another, squared it, and said, quite confidently, “You leave in five days.”

* * *

Admiral Janeway would have been lying had she said she was paying full attention to the presentation underway in the packed auditorium.  In fact, her thoughts were divided between the lengthy diplomatic proceedings to which she would soon be headed, and the state in which she had left her personal relationship with Chakotay just a few hours ago. 

In an attempt to distract herself from the latter, she tuned back in to the squat, plump admiral at the dais.

“To date, we have been made aware of a potential fifty-six individuals who have gone missing from Federation facilities.  In each of these instances, the individual in question had no family to speak of, no close friends, and rather mundane, low-level job functions.  Some were officers, none above the rank of ensign, but they all had something else in common.”

Mumbles filled the auditorium as the presenting admiral clicked through another set of images on the viewscreen, displaying there the faces of the people gone missing.  Ambient chatter rose quickly in the room.

“They’re all Terran,” someone remarked from behind.

“All young,” said another.

“Mostly men,” several people noticed.

The woman seated next to Janeway stood to direct a question above the chitchat.  “Do we know where they are going?”

“We have a theory,” the admiral acknowledged.  “In the past, members of our reality – for lack of a better term – have moved into another, parallel one.  In that universe, which we refer to as AU 003, there is a war raging between a Terran-centered group of rebels and an Alliance formed primarily by the joint powers of Cardassia, Bajor and the Klingon Empire.  We believe that one of those two sides is abducting people from our universe, and possibly others.  Those individuals may have been forcibly conscripted as soldiers in their fight.”

“That’s a rather ambitious theory,” an older man piped up from a middle row.  “Do you have any evidence to support that claim?”

“We do.“ The presenter switched screens and after a brief moment of static, a curly-haired officer in a yellow uniform filled the screen. 

“Admiralty, other attendees,” the man said, offering a small nod of respect to his audience.  “I’m Miles O’Brien.  I’m the chief of operations on Deep Space Nine.  I’m sure that many of you have read the reports of members from this station being sent into the other universe that Admiral Yousef has just mentioned.  Deep Space Nine has been a hot zone for abductions and AU activity in the past and as such we’ve modified our internal sensors to report when someone has come or gone.  In the last three weeks we’ve lost four crew members.  Since then, we’ve outfitted all of our station’s personnel with transphasic communications devices.  Three days ago, one of our sensors alerted just before a member of our security team, Ensign Jeremiah Blevins, was snatched from his quarters.”

At that moment, several officers began traversing the aisles, handing out padds of information to the attendees.  O’Brien continued.

“Ensign Blevins has been reporting in regularly with information regarding the Resistance and is actively tracking down our other missing personnel.  I’ll turn over now to Starfleet Security…”

Janeway looked to the padd in her hand, thumbing through the data as another presenter stepped up to the podium.  With a sigh, she checked the time.  Her transport was due to depart within the hour.  Having little personal investment in the topic at hand, she resigned herself to wait another ten minutes and then make a silent exit. 

The security officer rambled on while Janeway pondered her impending trip.  She thought about trying to track down Chakotay before she left to offer another, more heartfelt goodbye, but realized that he was likely busy grading exams and would not want to be disturbed.  At the eight minute mark, Janeway was ready to throw in the towel.  Hands planted to rise from her seat, she paused at seeing a trusted friend make her way across the stage.

“I’m going to turn this over to Starfleet Engineering, Lieutenant Commander B’Elanna Torres.  She is working on a way to prevent similar abductions and will now briefly review her team’s progress…”

Janeway smiled.  _If B’Elanna’s on it, this crisis won’t last long,_ she thought.  And then, after listening for a respectable two more minutes, she made her silent departure.

* * *

In the end, Chakotay found that he couldn’t resist such a unique, and personalized, offer to go exploring.  Winter semester was officially over, Kathryn would be incommunicado for several weeks, and he found himself with an overwhelming need to shake both the cold and the loneliness from his bones.

It had taken him the better part of the trip to review what spotty information was made available regarding the last of Vash’s whereabouts – and her motivations –, combine them with what he already knew of the Iconians, and choose the most logical place where she could have run aground.

Unfortunately, that place – a planet known as Acrora IV – was quite literally, a jungle. 

Tall fronds of towering ferns and plumes of heavy grasses slowed the progress of Chakotay and the cadet accompanying him.  The air was so saturated with humidity that it threatened to drown them while they hiked, but the two men persisted.  The sweat which had only been a mild annoyance up until this point began to run down Chakotay’s brow, and wiping it away did little good as his eyes began to sting in protest.

“The top of the next ridge, Ling,” he told the young man, who had been maneuvering beside him.  “Another half-hour and we’ll be there.” Then he looked back as if in a challenge, “Assuming we keep this pace.”

“Yes, sir,” the man grunted, heaving himself through the brush.  Though the student was in decent shape, he wasn’t quite built for this kind of trek like Chakotay.  Still, what Ling might have lacked in physical prowess, he more than made up for in his desire to learn and explore.  That was, of course, until a vine caught him by the ankle and brought him crashing to his knees.

“Watch out for those,” Chakotay said over his shoulder with a sly grin.

The student grunted, righting himself once again and made up the distance lost in three long strides.  “I’m sorry, sir.  But why couldn’t we have just beamed to the site?”

“I was beginning to wonder when you’d ask me that,” Chakotay admitted, heaving himself over a fallen tree.  The insects were beginning to swarm in this particularly swampy area of the jungle and a large one began to suck unceremoniously at his neck.  He felt the bite, then slapped it dead, smearing his own blood across his sweaty skin.

“The ridge is encompassed by gravimetric interference.  It would scatter our signals from here to eternity if we tried to beam in.”

“Ah, good call then, sir.”

“You’re not sorry that you came along with me, are you?” Chakotay asked, looking back to the student who had fallen slightly behind.  He caught a glimpse of wild, black hair mopped back by sweat, and swore for a second he was being accompanied by a different, but equally eager, young man.

“Oh, no.  Not at all.” He swatted another bloodsucker away with the back of his hand. “It’s a great honor to be asked to come along on a dig.”

“Not sure this will be a dig, exactly,” Chakotay admitted, jumping down into a rocky crevice, finding the ground there soft and thick with rotted vegetation.  He waited for his charge to join him, then continued on.

“Forgive me, but you haven’t exactly given me many details.  I’ve studied the Iconian civilization throughout my time at the Academy, but I’m still not sure just what are we looking for?” Ling brushed off his knees and they continued forward.

 “A quiz then, Mr. Ling.  What is this planet known for?  Historically speaking, that is?”

“Well, um.  That would be…”

Chakotay couldn’t control the grin that was beginning to form.  He had caught the young pupil in a trap and intended to enjoy every moment of it.  If nothing more, this conversation was a good diversion from thinking about how much farther they had to go.

Another of the large, blood-sucking insects landed itself on the young man’s cheek where it was quickly whipped away.  “Carnivorous insects, sir,” he replied, dryly.  “That’s what this planet is known for.”

“Besides that.”

“Nothing,” Ling huffed.  And he came to a complete stop.  “Historically speaking, this planet, - actually, the whole system – is good for absolutely nothing.  There has never been a civilization here.  No wars have taken place here, no one has ever colonized it, no life has evolved past a fish or a small lizard, not even a primate to be found.  There are virtually no valuable resources, unless you count water, wood, and bugs.  And, quite frankly, I think we might be the only two people to have ever walked here for more than a half-hour.”

“You may very well be right about all of those things.”

“Then what, sir?” he bit back before softening slightly.  “If I may ask again.  What are we doing here?”

Chakotay grinned, gulped back a drink from his canteen, and announced, “We’re following a hunch.”

 “A hunch?” Ling asked.  Chakotay walked on, waiting to hear the hurry of footsteps from behind as his aide caught up.  “You mean to tell me that we sat on a transport for six days, then hopped a shuttle to travel deep into Cardassian territory and have been trudging through the jungle for hours – a trek which, by the way, we will have to make in reverse – on a hunch?”

“Actually, we came here because the gravimetric interference is almost identical to the type recorded by the _Enterprise_ when she encountered an Iconian gateway.  And, as you know, Dr. Vash was last reported looking for Iconian artifacts in this region.  So all of that...”  Chakotay offered the man his hand and they worked together to get over the next pile of fallen trees. 

“But the _hunch_ is the most important part.”

* * *

“This is it,” Chakotay announced as the duo reached the top of the ridge.  The thick, jungle vegetation had given way to much dryer, rockier conditions for the last fifteen minutes of their trek.  Both were grateful to no longer be dripping wet or swatting at bugs.  Dropping his pack, Chakotay looked around.

“I don’t see anything unusual,” Ling replied, reaching for his tricorder.

“You won’t get far with that,” Chakotay warned.

True to prediction, the device beeped and whirred in protest to the surrounding interference.  “You’re right.  This thing is pissed off.” He clapped it shut.

Chakotay regarded him quizzically and the young man quickly snapped to attention.  “Sorry, sir.  I mean, that is to say –“

“I don’t stand on formalities, Cadet.  Not out here.  And yes, there’s far too much interference to read anything.”

Ling relaxed.  “So, how do you know we’re in the right spot?”

“See that up there?”  Chakotay pointed into a clearing.  “It’s the remnants of a fire.  Someone had a meal here, sat for a while, maybe even spent the night.”

“If it was Vash, how do you know she didn’t keep going?”

“Because,” Chakotay said, stepping to the side.  There, hidden behind a large boulder, he picked up a canvas bag and swung it around.  “She never would have left this willingly.”

“How on Earth did you find that?” Ling asked, eyes wide in disbelief as if Chakotay had just worked some kind of magic.

“I picked up Vash’s trail about twenty minutes ago.  She left enough broken sticks and trampled grasses that for a while I thought I was tracking an elephant.”

Chakotay weighed the heft of the pack, and pulled from it a hard, heavy chunk of what appeared to be obsidian.  Shiny, black and with a pristine surface, it had four sides, two longer and two shorter, giving it a roughly diamond shape.  Around every edge were inlaid markings, but the surface was so dark that they were impossible to properly see.

“We’ll have to take a rubbing of this to get the inscriptions off,” Chakotay said, holding it up to the light.

“Where do you think she found it?”

“Somewhere nearby, I’d say.  Let’s have a look around.”  He tucked the artifact into his own bag and left hers behind.

The duo investigated the fire pit first.  Finding nothing of interest, Chakotay backtracked a path through the clearing and into a sparsely wooded area.  From there it was only a few dozen meters until they found what they had been searching for.

Ling gasped and Chakotay put both hands on his hips.  “Well.  I’ll be damned,” he remarked under his breath.

“What is it?” Ling hushed, eyes fixed on the sight.

Before them were sprawled the ruins of a once great structure.  Massive granite pillars lay toppled on their sides, some half-cracked and broken, a few still intact, but all had been felled.  The entire surface of the ground for some one hundred meters in each direction was covered in a stone-tile floor.  Bits of scrub vegetation popped through the cracks. 

“It’s classic Iconian architecture,” Chakotay remarked, running a hand along one of the enormous pillars.  Even fallen, its width was nearly his full height.  “If what we know of Iconian civilization is true, then these ruins have been here over two hundred thousand years.” 

“It really is remarkable,” Ling said, breathing deep.  “Certainly worth the trouble to get here.”

Chakotay smiled.  “Well, we can’t just stand in awe all evening.  We only have a few hours before dark and we have to make camp.  Let’s split up, get a lay of the land, make note of anything we should investigate tomorrow.  Be sure to keep an eye out for other signs that Vash has been here.”

‘Yes, sir,” Ling agreed.

“Use this camera,” he said, handing the student a small, black case.  “Holo-imagers and other electronics won’t work in the interference, so this is an old-fashioned film one that we can develop later.  I don’t have any way to track you with a tricorder and you know our combadges don’t work.  If you get lost, you’re going to stay that way, so pay attention.  Meet back here in an hour.”

The young man nodded his understanding and started away.  “Oh, and Ling?” Chakotay called after him.  “If you come across a doorway that’s showing pictures of faraway lands, fight the urge to walk through the middle.”

Ling smiled broadly.  “Don’t worry about that, sir.  I’d like to stay in 2379 if it’s all the same to you.”

The two men separated.  Ling made for the eastern wall to investigate the perimeter of the complex while Chakotay headed into the center.  For twenty-odd minutes, Chakotay snapped pictures of the debris that was strewn about, drawing closer to the gigantic heap of rubble at the midpoint of the courtyard.  He continually reminded himself that there would be an opportunity to come back with a larger team; that Federation archeologists, real ones, would eventually investigate and archive everything.  But to be leading the scouting party on such an important discovery was a thrill unlike any he’d had before, and he intended to soak up every moment.  It felt good to be so consumed in something other than getting _Voyager_ home, or creating lesson plans – or thinking about Kathryn.

Chakotay was so wrapped up in investigating everything that caught his eye he failed to hear a person creeping up behind him.  He didn’t sense that individual picking up a chunk of rock.  He didn’t notice as it was lifted behind his back.

But he did see the shadow it cast just before being brought down upon him.  And he certainly felt the blow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter makes references to the TOS Episode, "City on the Edge of Forever" and the TNG Episode, "Contagion" which established the ancient race of aliens known as the Iconians. I also maintain my headcanon that the Guardian of Forever (TOS) was Iconian in nature.


	3. The world is full of trickery

* * *

Admiral Janeway dragged herself into her apartment, dropped her duffle bag onto the floor, and collapsed into the nearest chair.

“I’m getting too old for this,” she muttered, unzipping her uniform jacket.  Laying her head back, she thought about the last week.

The proceedings to admit the Rikkarin homeworld to the Federation had fallen short.  What was to have taken a month and a half amounted to a fraction of that, failing so miserably, and with such finality on the very first day of negotiations that Kathryn wondered why she had been sent there in the first place.  Three weeks of preparations, ten days of round-trip travel.  And for what?  To meet for six hours with the representatives of an alien race who were no more ready to be admitted to the Federation than the squirrel munching on an acorn outside her window.

Feeling frustrated and tired, Kathryn rubbed her brow and then felt a familiar pull in the muscles of her neck.  She dug her fingertips into one particularly overgrown knot.  “Computer, open a com-line to Chakotay.”

The computer bleeped its acceptance and then announced, “ _An away message has been recorded for this individual.”_

“Play message.”

At once, the sound of Chakotay’s voice made her feel more at ease, but as he spoke, she became quietly discomfited.

_“You’ve reached the office of Professor Chakotay.  I am currently off-world on personal business.  If you are having issues with your grades please speak with my teaching assistant, Lieutenant Greyson. For all other matters leave a message or check back with me when I return on the twenty-third of March.”_

“March twenty-third?” Kathryn said to the air.  “That’s more than a week away…  Where the hell is he? Computer, do I have any messages from Chakotay?”

_“Negative.”_

Her stomach lurched and an ache rose within her chest.  She forced herself to think about the situation more rationally.  _Why would he have told me where he was going?  It’s not as if he reports to me anymore.  He owes me nothing._

Despite the rationalization, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt deep in her heart.

* * *

The room was dark when Chakotay finally came around with his head pounding and body shivering from the sweat drying on his skin.

Through the blurry eyes of regaining consciousness he could make out a familiar shape; curves against a backdrop of black.  Short hair cropped above the shoulders of the only other figure in the room, cascading with a sheen that caught a weak stream of light at the far end of the narrow space. 

“Kathryn?” he asked, hesitantly.

“You’re awake,” came the familiar voice.

Chakotay reached and tentatively touched the back of his throbbing head, feeling something slightly sticky there.  “Where am I?”

“You’re on a transport headed back to Earth,” she said from the shadows.  “You were exploring Iconian ruins and had an accident.”

“What kind of accident?”

“Don’t worry about that now.  You’re going to be fine.” She approached his bed.  Dragging her fingertips up his leg and across his torso, she urged him with a warm palm to tilt his head to the side.  He felt the hiss of a hypospray and the hum of a dermal regenerator as it was worked against his scalp.

“What are you doing here?” he asked as the throbbing in his head receded.  “I thought you were on Rikkari for at least a month.”

“When I heard you’d been injured I left to intercept you.”  The regenerator clicked off.  “What were you doing alone on that planet anyway?”

Accepting her offered hand, he sat up slowly, stretching and taking in more of his surroundings.  The room he was in didn’t appear to belong to any vessel he’d ever seen before.  It was dimly lit, yes, but also crude in its shape and furnishings.  Even simple supply ships would have had quarters or an infirmary more comfortable than this.   Then it occurred to him: she had said he was alone exploring the ruins.  What had happened to Ling?  If he was by himself, how would anyone - let alone Kathryn - have found him so quickly? 

Something was very wrong.

Senses slowly coming back to full capacity, he forced himself to focus on Kathryn.  She continued to evade his glance, dipping back into the shadows as he sat upright on the hard bed.

“Can we have some more light?”

“I’m keeping it dark so as to not hurt your eyes, _dear_ ,” she replied, an edge to her voice that he hadn’t registered earlier.

“Thank you for that, but I think I’m alright now.”

“The low light is for the best,” she insisted.

“Okay,” he conceded warily. “Where are we headed now?”

“Why, home of course,” she huffed.  “You do want to go home, don’t you?  We can spend more time together that way.”

He could feel her moving closer again, warmth radiating from her body as she drew near.  She wound her hands around the back of his neck, pulling him close and her mouth met his hungrily, her kiss threatening to devour him whole.  Her tongue pushed past his own, her hands gripped and tightened in his hair, pulling against the wound she had just recently healed and he narrowly contained a yelp. 

He had no sooner returned to his senses enough to offer resistance when she ripped herself away once again, moving instead to palm a hand against the inside of his thigh.

“Now, tell me, darling.  What were you doing on that planet?  What were you looking for so far from our home?”

Gently, he guided her hand off of his lap.  “I was taking a break from teaching.”

“Oh?” She leaned against his bed, keeping her left profile turned toward him.

“I needed to clear my head about a few things.”

“And you chose to travel into Cardassian territory to do it?”

“There was a missing archeologist, some artifacts…” A light on the wall buzzed and flickered, illuminating her again briefly, but just enough.  “Your hair.”

She grasped for the strands and held them close to her face.  “What about it?”

“You’ve cut it.”

“I wanted a change,” she defended.

He rose to his feet and stood square with her, his size dwarfing her almost instantly and he saw her fight the urge to step back.  “You’re not in uniform.”

“I’m not in command of this vessel, why would I be?” she guarded.

“And this…” his hand gently grazed the side of her cheek, pulling her by her arm further into the light, tracing a thumb down the side of her jaw against a rough scar.  She flinched and wrenched away from his touch.  “That’s new.”

Chakotay heard the low growl start at the back of her throat, the woman – who he was now convinced was not _his_ Kathryn in any sense of the phrase - shoved his hand away and kicked him back with a heavy-booted foot planted firmly in his left kneecap. 

Startled, he stumbled and she reached for a weapon holstered against the small of her back.  Leveling to meet her target, she demanded, “Computer, lights.”

The room was instantly thrust into brightness, temporarily blinding him.

“I asked you a question,” Kathryn’s doppelganger reminded, still pointing the weapon at him, but Chakotay made no move to raise his hands in surrender.

“And I asked you one back.  Who _are_ you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she sneered, taking one hand and planting it firmly on her hip.  A move he’d seen so many times before, but yet, oddly different.  “I’m Kathryn Janeway.”

“You may resemble Kathryn Janeway, but you are not her.”

“Oh, but I am.  And at the moment, I’m the one in control, so I ask you again, what were you doing at the Iconian site?”

“Alright,” he conceded, backing himself up against the medical table once again.  “I was looking for someone….”

“Yes, yes.  Vash.”

“I said I was looking for a missing archaeologist, I never gave you her name.”

Caught in her own trap, she paused.  “Fine.  Why were you looking for her?  You teach tactical analysis, not archeology.  And how did you know to look at the ruins of Acrora?  ”

Chakotay flitted over all the information at hand.  This not-quite-correct version of Kathryn had rudimentary knowledge of him at best.  He was just about to sling back another query when they were interrupted by a voice over the communications system.

_“Tuvok to Inquisitor Janeway”_

She let go of another snarl and snapped at the ceiling, “I _told_ you I wasn’t to be interrupted.”

_“Apologies, Inquisitor, but you also requested to be informed when we had cleared the nebula.”_

With a glower and another growl, the comm went dead.  She returned her imposing gaze to Chakotay.

“You’re from another universe,” he stated calmly. 

“I am from the _right_ universe.  You’re the visitor here,” she bit back.  He watched as she let go of a long exhale, apparently trying to calm herself.  “I knew this ruse wouldn’t last long.  I told the Intendant that I preferred a much more direct approach.”  She heaved herself off of the wall, aim never leaving his center of mass. 

“Maybe you should let the Intendant do this job then,” he offered.

She grinned and shook her head.  “This honor falls to me.  And if you value your life, you’d better hope it stays that way.”

Chakotay’s mind raced through a thousand options that would lead him exactly nowhere at the given moment.  Before he could formulate any kind of plan she was speaking again.  “I don’t know how much of an archaeologist you are, or how much you know about that artifact you found.  But we’re going to find out.  I need you to finish the job that Vash started.”

“If she’s here, why do you need me?”

“ _Was here_ , darling,” Janeway warned moving for the exit.  “She’s long dead now.  And unless you want to follow her out the airlock, I suggest you give me nothing but your best.”

* * *

Kathryn shouldn’t have been there while he was away.  She shouldn’t have unlocked his door and snuck inside and been snooping around for clues as to where he could have gone, and yet there she was, in the middle of the night, stalking through his apartment by moonlight like a prowler looking for something to steal.  

 _This is ridiculous,_  she thought.  “Computer, lights at maximum.”

“Now.  I’m here to find my black dress.  It’s my favorite.  And I might need it later this week,” she said out loud.  “Besides.  I’m dating the man that lives here.  He’s been at my right hand for eight years.  He invited me to live with him not two weeks ago.  If that doesn’t allow me access to his apartment, then what does?”

Chakotay’s plants did not answer.

She walked to the window and drew his blinds closed.

In every way, the place felt like him.  From the lingering aroma of tea and sandalwood incense - which she inhaled deeply and savored with eyes closed, to the woven blanket that had followed him home from _Voyager_  laid over his favorite armchair - so soft against her cheek; from the books on his shelves -she noticed a few were missing, to the freshly pressed shirts in his closet - which she absolutely did not thumb through just to feel the fabric under her fingertips.  

From the way his comforter was arranged so perfectly - folded at the top and tucked neat around the sides, to the feel of his pillow under her own head - and to be sure, it still smelled like him.  The apartment was Chakotay and she was attracted to it all like a moth to a flame.

Kathryn wasn’t going to do it.  She told herself before coming here that she would not, under any circumstances, stay more than ten minutes trying to figure out where he had gone and why – under the guise of looking for a dress, of course - and she certainly would not lay down on that well-made bed, snuggle deep into his pillow and drift off into a blissful slumber like she had wanted, but refused to do, so many times before.

And yet.

When the door chimed at 0545 hours, his bed was exactly where she woke with a start.

Heart racing and feeling one hundred percent like an intruder, she jolted upright. 

_Maybe if I ignore them they’ll go away._

Another chime. 

She swallowed. 

Ten seconds later his front door slid open.

“Admiral Janeway?” she heard a familiar voice call.  She let go of a rush of withheld breath.

“In here, B’Elanna,” she said, softly.  Footsteps drew closer down the hall.

Kathryn straightened herself and stood, attempting to appear nonchalant while leaning against the wall in her slept-in uniform, hair mussed and with an indent from her body pressed into Chakotay’s covers.

“Oh, thank goodness I found you,” B’Elanna sighed with obvious relief.  “I’ve been looking everywhere.” 

“I was picking up something that I...” Kathryn couldn’t help but notice that the woman looked utterly exhausted.  Suddenly her explanation seemed pointless.  “What’s the matter, B’Elanna?”

“You were in the briefing two weeks ago when I presented on Starfleet officers being abducted, weren’t you?”

“Yes, most of it.”

“We received a report that another person’s gone missing.”  B’Elanna’s voice betrayed a slight waver.  “It’s Chakotay.”

* * *

Chakotay pressed his thumb into the spasming muscle at the base of his spine and looked up from a table full of etchings.  Though his attention had been well focused for the last hours, he couldn’t help but steal a glance to Inquisitor Janeway.  It was eerie, he thought, the way she looked and sounded so much like _his_ Kathryn.  And yet, there was a disharmony to her, a barely contained frustration which had woven its way into everything that she said and did.  It unnerved him, to say the least.

He took a deep breath, and then a chance.  “I’m not the enemy, you know.”

His voice made her attention snap back.  He reached across the table to take a book off of the stack, watching as her hand twitched to the disrupter on her belt.  Six hours, give or take, she had been observing his every move in silence from the corner.

He pressed on. “You brought me here to do a job, right?  Something that couldn’t be done by others in this universe?”

“I brought you here because you were found at the scene of an artifact that I was trying to recover.   I recognized you and I thought you might be valuable.  I am waiting to be proven right.”

He leaned back in his chair.  “Alright then, and you want to be able to trust what I’m doing, and keep me going efficiently, you might want to get to know me a bit.  You know, build a rapport?”

She glared at him and let out a snort of air, folding her arms across her chest once again, but he remained undeterred.  “Usually, getting to know someone goes like this.”  He wiped the graphite dust onto his pants.  “Hi.  My name is Chakotay,” he stood and offered her a handshake.  “And you are?”

She made a swiping sound with her tongue across her teeth and narrowed her eyes.  “Why are you doing this?”

He let his hand drop.  “You’ve made it pretty clear that I’m not going to be allowed to go home until I help you.  So far you haven’t asked me for anything that requires me to act against my principles.  And despite the fact that you kidnapped me, masqueraded briefly as the woman I love, and quite possibly murdered Vash, I’m inclined to go along with what you’ve asked.”

She leveled her stare.  “You’re going to help me?”

“I haven’t been poring over these books just to keep up appearances.  I want to be done with this so that I can return home.”  His gaze narrowed.  “That is the deal, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“You seem surprised that I’m so willing, is there something else I should know about what we’re doing here?  Some reason that I shouldn’t help you?”

“No.”

“Okay, so do we have to work like we’re on two different sides of a war?  You can stop barking orders at me and just ask me nicely.  You might get better results.”

A pause filled the room and she eyed him up and down.  “Just do your job.  Translate the symbols on these artifacts and let me know when you’ve finished,” she said, pushing off the wall.

“Fine, _Inquisitor_ , but it’d be easier if I had the artifacts in hand, rather than just the rubbings.  I might be missing something…”

She paused a moment in the doorway to consider his request.  “Very well.” 

He returned his attention to the papers before him and then, just before she left the room he heard, “My title is Inquisitor.  You may call me Kat.”


	4. Sham, drudgery, and broken dreams

* * *

 

“What were Ling’s exact words again?” Kathryn asked, pushing back in her chair.  The bun she had been wearing in her hair had long since fallen down.  Empty cups of coffee and trays of takeout food were in various states of disarray, strewn about her office along with a mound of reports.

It had been nearly twenty-four hours since B'Elanna had delivered the news that shook Kathryn’s world.  A full day and a full night of working without rest, and tensions were running high.

B’Elanna rooted through the stack of padds.  Finding the one she needed, she read aloud. 

_“It was 0945 standard time, though the sun was beginning to set at our location.  Professor Chakotay and I had been separated for approximately thirty-five minutes.  I was investigating the exterior portion of the eastern-most side of the complex.  Through an opening in the surrounding wall, I observed as a dark-skinned, Vulcan man in a brown and black uniform hit Professor Chakotay over the head with a large fragment from a stone pillar.  I tested my phaser before running in to defend him, but found it was made inoperative by the localized gravimetric interference.  For that reason, I chose to stay hidden._

_“After Professor Chakotay had been knocked unconscious, a woman appeared from behind the rubble and retrieved the obsidian artifact from the professor’s pack, then the two of them carried the professor underground via a hidden staircase.  I followed their tracks by flashlight into a chamber hidden within the subterranean structure, but they were nowhere to be found.  In the center of the room was a typical, functioning Iconian gateway.  I presume that is where the two attackers made their escape with Professor Chakotay in tow.”_

B'Elanna put the padd down.  “You know the rest.  Ling snapped a few more pictures, ran back through the jungle for two hours until he was able to beam back to their shuttle and send an emergency communication.”

Kathryn flipped through the printed photographs laid out before her.  “Damnit, I wish these weren’t so out of focus.  Someone should have taught that cadet how to take pictures.”

“To be fair, he was pretty far away and probably scared out of his mind.”

Kathryn reached for her newest cup of coffee and sighed, worry etched across her forehead.  “This doesn’t fit the profile of the other kidnappings.  Chakotay is hardly an unknown.  He has family and friends, and he wasn’t on Federation soil when he was taken.”

“I agree.  It doesn’t fit the profile at all, but what else do we have to go by?”

“He was kidnapped into an Iconian gateway, he could be anywhere, anytime.  And he was smashed over the back of the head, B'Elanna…” Kathryn did her best to hide the quiver in her voice.  “It’s been almost two days since he was attacked.”

B'Elanna leaned closer to the desk.  “We _will_ get him back, Admiral,” she vowed.  “Chakotay can survive just about anything and we won’t give up until he’s home.”

Kathryn steadied herself and nodded in silent thanks.  “We have this, of the Vulcan,” she said, regaining her composure and holding a picture up to the light.  “It’s the clearest one.  I swear to you B’Elanna, if I didn’t know better –“

“I thought the same thing, but if that’s who we think it is,” B'Elanna said, grabbing another picture next to it, “then this is you.”

Kathryn took the picture and sighed.  “Both of these individuals are wearing the same kind of uniform that has been documented on the Alliance side of the war in AU 003.”

“Then let’s assume for a moment that he was captured and taken to the same universe as the other abductees.”

“Okay.”

“How do we get him back?”

* * *

B’Elanna didn’t need to ask how the admiral’s emergency meeting had gone.  Bad news came as a chill in the air and she braced herself for the brunt of it as the sound of quick footsteps and swearing grew ever louder down hall.

By the time Kathryn reached the entrance to her office, she had no further expletives to unleash but instead shook with a quiet fury that B'Elanna had only seen a handful of times before.

“We need…” Kathryn began, teeth gritted.  “Another plan.”

B'Elanna bit her lip.  “They didn’t go for it?”

She counted off on her fingers.  “Insufficient evidence to support our theories.  There’s a plan already in the works to rescue the other missing officers and Chakotay’s name will be added to the list.  And then there’s my favorite – he’s just one person, Admiral Janeway,” she mocked.  “We’re missing dozens, we can’t give him special consideration just because he’s your _close personal friend_.”  Kathryn threw her hands up in defeat.

“Oh, no.  They didn’t.”

“They did.”

“I’m sorry…” B'Elanna cringed while Kathryn slumped into the nearest chair. 

“I’ve petitioned everyone I can think of and begged at every door.  If I do much more they’re going to relieve me.  The only, _only,_ consolation I got was that they’re dispatching the nearest Starfleet vessel to investigate the ruins and while there, they’ll look for Chakotay.”

“It’s better than nothing…”

“He’s an afterthought, B'Elanna.  We’re going to have to go after him ourselves,” Kathryn conceded.  “Though how we’ll go about it, I’m still not sure.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’ve made some progress here then,” B'Elanna offered, at once noticing a spark of hope again ignite in her friend’s eyes. 

“Please,” Kathryn begged, dragging herself from the chair to retrieve yet another cup of coffee.  “Tell me.”

“I was able to hack into the classified data files on AU 003.  I have the specifications to allow us to modify a transporter and materialize in that universe as others have done several times before.  And, from my previous work on this project, I also have all of the debriefing reports from the times that people have accidentally ended up there,” she motioned with the padd in her hand.

“We could contact Ensign Blevins, the one that was taken from DS9, and see if he's heard anything.  Maybe pinpoint where we should transport?”

B'Elanna shook her head.  “Blevins went off the map two days ago.  He muttered something about being on a transport to Paris and then disappeared.  Either his device has malfunctioned, or...”

“… he's unable to use it,” Kathryn rubbed her chin.  “Ok, so then we transport into a spot where we know there is rebel activity in the other universe, we'll ask around, gather some intelligence –“

“Stick out like a sore thumb.”

“We’ll prepare,” Kathryn said, indicating the padd in B'Elanna’s hand.  Then she eyed her friend carefully.  “That is, assuming you're going to come with me.  You know I’d never order you to do such a thing…”

B'Elanna smiled mischievously.  “Klingons rule Earth in that universe, right?  I wouldn't miss that for anything.”

* * *

“Hm…” Chakotay muttered.  “Wasn’t expecting that…”

“Do you have something?”  Kat asked, her weary voice just the slightest bit hopeful, and the slightest bit annoyed.

“I’m not sure.” He picked up his cup of water and took a thoughtful sip, sliding one of the six nearly identical obsidian artifacts in front of her.  “It’s this character right here.  If I compare it to the Rosetta stone document that Vash provided, I’d swear this is the symbol for _child.”_  

“Child?” Kat rolled her eyes.  “You’ve been working how many hours to decipher one word?  And a useless one at that.”

“I’ve told you, this kind of thing can’t be rushed.  These symbols are hundreds of thousands of years old.  If given the time for proper study it would take a team of archaeologists years to –“

“Properly catalogue and decipher them taking into account the placement of the symbols and blah, blah, blah.  Yes, yes.  You’ve said all of this before.”  She stood up from the chair and moved closer.  “I’m growing impatient, Mr. Chakotay.  I granted you access to the original artifacts yesterday in the hopes that they would speed your progress, which they haven’t.  We will be arriving at our destination in less than two days and if you don’t have answers for me, you’re going to have to answer to the Intendant.”

“I appreciate that you have trusted me with them.  And having access has helped.  But can’t you tell your Intendant that these things can’t be rushed?”

“She doesn’t take kindly to disappointment.”

He frowned.  “Who is this _Intendant_ anyway?”

“She is the highest ranking official in the Terran sector,” Kat informed him matter-of-factly.  “She rules Earth and the other planets, ships and stations in the Sol system.”

“And what, exactly, is it that you do for her?  Other than kidnap people from other realities and glare at them from the corner?”

“I am her second-in-command.”

“Woah,” he straightened a bit out of respect.  “Impressive considering you’re a Terran.  How did you manage that?”

“I work hard.  I deliver results.  And I don’t _waste her time,”_ she impressed.

Chakotay thought a moment.  This was the most he had gotten her to open up to him since arriving and he wasn’t going to let the opportunity for more information pass by.  “I’m just surprised that you got the chance, given your race.  You said that the Klingons and Cardassians are the powers in this Alliance, in my experience they both tend to be a little xenophobic.”

She huffed a sigh, clearly annoyed at the line of questioning.  “There are defectors on both sides of this war.  I happen to know one Cardassian who’s made herself quite at home with the rebels.  And, as for the Intendant, she is half-Terran.  Her mixed heritage allows her to rule effectively and compassionately over my people.”

“Wait,” Chakotay said, his eyes narrowing.  “She’s half human?”

“Yes.”

An uneasy lump rose in his throat.  “What is her other half?”

“Klingon, of course.”

* * *

The first thing that B’Elanna and Admiral Janeway did upon materializing in the other universe, was choke. Thick, dark smoke churned around them, oppressing all of their senses.

“Where are we?” Kathryn gasped, hand covering her mouth.  Her lungs burned and ached.

“This is still northern California, but we’re in the middle of an ore processing yard,” B’Elanna shouted over the hiss and clang of heavy machinery.  She rubbed the rapidly fogging screen on her tricorder and took another set of readings.  As her eyes began to clear, Kathryn could make out other shapes moving in the dense fog.  Men and women, hunched over with heavy packs slung on their backs, traversed in straight lines like a highway across the wasteland.  This place was wholly unrecognizable as the outskirts of a forest they had left behind.

“This way,” B’Elanna motioned.  Twenty paces later they had fallen into step behind a few other workers.  En masse, they walked for a time until their destination became clear.

“We’re headed for the exit gate.”

“They’re going to be checking credentials,” Kathryn said, motioning ahead to the checkpoint. 

B’Elanna took her by the arm and they removed themselves from the line again.  “I’m setting our site-to-site to put us a hundred meters on the other side.  Looks like there’s an encampment there, mostly Terran.  Ready to be my prisoner?”

After synching the device on their wrists they rematerialized just outside a small, squat dwelling.  A moment later, two men, filthy with ore soot, pushed past them.  The larger of the two muttered “get the hell out of my way,” then the second caught a glimpse of B’Elanna’s face. 

“Intendant!” the man gasped, then he just went - straight to the ground on his knees and the man next to him followed suit.  There, the men stayed without moving or looking up.

Kathryn cast a sideways glance to her half-Klingon counterpart then motioned with her head.  They left the two at their supplication.

“What did he call me?” B’Elanna asked once they were out of earshot.

“Intendant.  It’s one of the highest leadership positions that someone can have as a member of the Alliance.  The ruler of a station, a planet, sometimes a whole system.”

“You’re telling me that in this universe I’m in charge of… of what?”

Kathryn shook her head.  “I don’t know.  If that man was right, you could be in charge of all of Earth, which kills our plans to avoid attention.  Let’s test you out again to be sure.”

They walked back out into the road, B'Elanna exuding a bit more confidence in her steps.  As they went, person after person bowed their heads and avoided eye contact, moving well out of the way or stopping completely until they had passed.

After a time, they tucked behind another building.  “We need a new plan.”

“You think?” B’Elanna shot back only to be met with Kathryn’s glare.  “Sorry.”

They had only a moment to brainstorm before a muscular Terran woman and another man, young and large, swiftly came at them from the side of the building.  Weapons leveled to their eyes, Kathryn and B’Elanna froze.

“We heard you were wandering around without security, Intendant,” the man hissed.  “That’s a mistake you won’t make again.  I ought to kill you where you stand.  But then I’d be denied the pleasure of watching you die slowly in front of all those you’ve sought to oppress.”

The woman reached forward to disarm them both, taking their holstered weapons, tricorders, and the transporters from their wrists.  “Fancy technology,” the woman said, turning the devices in her hand.  “I’d love to know what these do, but then, we have to be sure you won’t call for reinforcements.”  She threw the items to the ground, then used one of the phasers to obliterate them. 

Kathryn cringed and then took a very large chance.  “Thank you for the rescue,” she said, stepping away from B’Elanna.  “She was going to kill me.” 

“Rescue?” the woman scoffed, shoving her back to B'Elanna’s side.  “Sorry, Inquisitor.  Wrong day to defect.  If she was going to kill you, maybe we’ll let her and save us the trouble.” 

“Inquisitor?” B’Elanna whispered.

“Listen,” Kathryn spoke up with hands open in surrender.  “There’s been a misunderstanding.  We are not the _Intendant_ and the _Inquisitor_ , whoever they are.  We’re from an alternate reality – the one that the Terran Resistance has been –“

“Shut up,” the man spat, jamming the muzzle of his weapon into her shoulder.  She turned and they were prodded back to the road.  “No more talking.  Let’s go.”


	5. They too have their story

* * *

 

Chakotay rubbed at the scruffy beard which had been growing steadily since his capture three days before.  He was pondering carefully how best to dole out information regarding the translations he had just double and triple checked.  With each passing hour he became more and more convinced that the half-dozen objects laid out before him held not just historical significance, but – like most items of Iconian heritage – an intrinsic power all their own.

Of course, Chakotay’s mind wasn’t completely centered on his work. 

The room he occupied had seemed to grow ever smaller in the last days, making him claustrophobic and jittery.  He hadn’t slept more than a few hours and was longing for home.  He missed the sky and fresh air and warm food.  He missed Kathryn – her very memory had begun to be marred by the likeness of Kat – and he wondered if she even knew yet that he had gone missing.

More than ever, he wanted to get this job over with and be sent home.

Finally decided in what he would reveal, Chakotay pressed the com button beside the door.  A few minutes later it slid open.

“You have something?”

“I think so.”  He stepped back to allow Kat unobstructed access to the room.  “But first, I need you to give me a little more information.”

“You’re hardly in a position to negotiate,” she reminded.

“That might be, but you need what I know.  Just indulge me, won’t you?”  When she appeared to balk, he dramatically looked to the chronometer on the wall and crossed his arms.  “How many hours until we reach Earth?  Two?  Ball’s in your court.”

“Fine.  Ask your question.”

He sat back down at the workstation.  “How did you get your information about me?  I know very little about this universe and yet you seem to be well-versed in my life, at least, superficially.”

“We have recently acquired a cache of data regarding your universe.  The spies that the Resistance have there do their jobs quite effectively.  What they do not do well, is keep it a secret.”

“The rebels have spies in my universe?  To what end?”

“No.  I answered one of your questions, now you answer one of mine.”

Chakotay nodded his head.  “That’s fair.  Go ahead.”

“I want to know the extent of what you’ve translated.”

“Have a seat,” he told her.  She hesitated, eyeing him suspiciously with a hand shifting again to her disruptor. 

“I’m not planning an escape.  If I was, I would have disarmed you and left a long time ago.” 

He could see that she wanted to refute his ability to do such a thing.  But instead, she relaxed ever-so-slightly.  “The artifacts.  What have you learned?” 

“First, a history lesson.”  He sat back and folded his hands in his lap, meeting her eyes.  “There is a theory by the preeminent multi-verse archaeologist, Jackson Hershel.  Hershel believes that the Iconians were the most advanced and enlightened species ever to exist; that they were quite possibly related to, or the protégés of a race of omnipotent beings known as the Q, and that they achieved a level of biological symbiosis with technology that allowed them to affect the very workings of the universe itself. 

“We know that the Iconians had the ability to move through virtually all of time and space at their will.  Hershel suggests that in doing so, the Iconians were responsible for the fracturing of what was one universe into many universes.”

“Let me see if I follow you,” Kat began.  “At some point an Iconian made the first time jump.  And because of it, created a second universe?”

Chakotay nodded.  “According to Hershel, yes.  And with each subsequent movement through time, they created another and another.  Your universe, mine, countless others.  But his theories have been based solely on speculation.  This set of artifacts is the first real corroboration that I’ve ever seen.”

“Okay, so what did you translate?”

Chakotay noticed that Kat’s hand was no longer on her disruptor.  Instead, she leaned forward, listening intently with her hands folded in front. 

He was an arm’s length away.  There was no guard.  In a flash, he imagined his escape.  Disarm her, order her to open the door and disable the ship’s defenses, make his getaway on whatever shuttle they surely possessed – all the while holding her hostage.  But where would he go?  And she might be injured or killed in the process.  No matter the universe, he couldn’t reconcile the death of Kathryn Janeway. 

The idea dissipated as quickly as it had formed.

Chakotay turned his attention to the configuration of the artifacts.  They sat nestled against each other like a perfectly fitting puzzle – a jet-black star, whose inscribed writing flowed effortlessly from one piece into the next.  For a moment he found himself lost in the inky darkness; reminded of the time that _Voyager_ had spent in a vast region of space void of stars. 

“At the center of each artifact is the root symbol meaning ‘child’,” he motioned to the arrangement.  “These pieces, fit together, tell a story of how there was one universe that became many at the whim of a child.  Now, the word _child_ can mean different things.  It can be a young person, or it can represent innocence.  I believe that the Iconians were the innocents who, before understanding how their time travelling was affecting things, inadvertently created many universes.  One for each infraction of the space-time continuum.”

“The multi-verse was an accident?”

“Seems that way.”

“And they couldn’t fix it?”

“This is my own speculation now,” he prefaced, “But I’d bet the best they could do was to watch over what they had created.  It explains why they refer to themselves as the Guardians.  Whether or not they still exist is another mystery.”

Chakotay reached for one of Vash’s book and opened it to where it had been marked with a velvet strip.  He pointed to a photograph of a stone stele.  “This object was found on Iconia.  You’ll note that right here,” he pointed, “is a very close likeness to the artifacts sitting in front of us.”

“What does the rest of the stele say?”

“It makes reference to a wall or a barrier that was built, or could be built around the universes to self-contain them.  Part of the stone is missing and it’s not clear.  But obviously that wall is not in place now or I couldn’t be here.”

“Is it possible that these artifacts are a way to build it?”

Upon reflection, Chakotay would later realize that this was the point where he should have stopped talking.  But Kat was genuinely engaged in their discussion for the first time.  Chakotay was excited for the discovery he had made, and so, he continued on.  “If these artifacts are some kind of mechanism or tool, I certainly don’t know how they work.  They’d probably have to be put in a receptacle of some kind… or there’s another piece missing.”

Kat smiled broadly rising from her seat and smacked Chakotay hard on the back.  “Nicely done, Professor.  Very nice indeed.  You’ve gotten well past the point that Vash had and in half the time.”

Chakotay pushed out of his chair and stepped back, eyeing her suspiciously.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I had to be sure that you were worth your salt.  You’ve corroborated what Vash had learned.  Now, go farther.”

“Now, I’d like to go home,” Chakotay demanded.  “I’ve done what you asked, translated the artifacts.  If you knew all of this already, why did you need me?”

“Vash was under the presumption that they’re more than just artifacts.  They _do_ something.  And given the narrative, I want to know exactly what they do and how they work.”

“I’m afraid I’ve given you all the information that I can.  I’ve translated every bit of text on here,” he argued, face hot and heart pounding.

“If you value the lives of the officers in your universe you might dig a little deeper.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The Resistance has recently come to possess a different, powerful piece of ancient technology.  They’re using it to snag people from all of those other universes that the Iconians created and bring them here.  The recruits are then folded into the ranks, used as soldiers in their war against the Alliance.”

“They have an unfair advantage, and you want to level the playing field again.  That’s why this is so important to you.”

“Yes.”

“And you think that this set of artifacts is the way to negate what they’re doing?  Why not just go after their device?”

“Our intelligence on the device is very limited, but we know it exists.  It could be in any number of places. Meanwhile, every day they’re bringing dozens of recruits, zapping them directly to where they are needed…”

“Hence the reason you’re pressed for time?”

She nodded.  “There’s something in this for you too, Starfleet,” she urged.  “If not for your own life, then for the lives of those who are being forced into a war they care nothing for.”

“That’s all well and good, but I have nothing left to learn from these pieces.”  He motioned to the desk.

“Vash seemed to believe that there was additional symbology layered within the obsidian material.  We don’t possess the equipment to perform that kind of analysis onboard, but we do back on Earth.”  Kat looked to the chronometer on her wrist.  “And as you know, we should be there shortly.”

From her pocket, Kat pulled a ration pack of food and tossed it to him.  “Enjoy your time off, I’ll see you when we arrive.”

As the door clanged shut behind her again, Chakotay felt a lump of defeat rise in his chest.  He slumped to the ground, staring at the crumbled bit of food for a moment before setting it aside.  With his head in his hands, he thought again about Kathryn – and again he wondered if she even realized that he was missing.

* * *

Kathryn and B’Elanna, wrists bound together and tied back to back, sat in the mud awaiting their fate.  It had been at least two hours of being hunched in the cold, damp barn-like structure.  B’Elanna, with her view of a lofted window, was trying to track the time by the setting of the sun.  They had failed to capture an audience with the truth and after a while even B'Elanna had to agree that Kathryn had sounded more like a raving lunatic than a Starfleet admiral on a rescue mission.

“Why don’t they just kill us and get it over with?” B'Elanna grumbled, shifting in the fetid muck that had soaked through her trousers. 

“The one in charge said something about gathering enough of a crowd.”

“Fantastic.  Let’s hope everyone’s out to dinner.”  B'Elanna glanced over her shoulder and Kathryn’s hair brushed her cheek.  From her posture, the once proud captain of the Delta Quadrant appeared, at the core, broken.  Overcome with a wash of regret, B'Elanna offered softly.  “You’re worried about Chakotay, aren’t you?”

Kathryn nodded quietly.  “Without us, he’ll never get home.”

“Without you, he won’t care.”

Kathryn sighed and stretched her neck from side to side.  “We didn’t exactly leave on great terms.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.  I thought you two were, you know… going along pretty well.”

“We are, or we were.  Right before I left we had a little difference of opinion.”

“Chakotay can be a stubborn ass sometimes,” B'Elanna offered.

“And so can I?”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

Kathryn chuckled lightly.  “If you were tied to him instead of me?”

“You’d be the stubborn ass,” she agreed.  “I wouldn’t take it to heart.  Whatever it was.  I’m sure he’s over it by now.”

Kathryn grew silent after B'Elanna’s words until the barn door jolted open with a loud bang.  The two women shot upright, but despite straining her neck, B'Elanna couldn’t make out who had come for them.  What she felt was Kathryn swallow.

“Chakotay?” Kathryn asked as if his name were a prayer.  “Oh, thank God.  You have to get us out of here.”

“Kat,” B'Elanna heard Chakotay’s voice growl.  “Kat. Kat. Kat.”  He had come around such that B'Elanna now had him in her field of vision, but just enough to see him shaking his head. 

“I always hoped I’d see you again.  Though I admit, I wish it were under better circumstances.  I guess your little plan didn’t work too well, did it?” 

Chakotay lowered himself down close to Kathryn’s face and B'Elanna felt hot breath on the back of her neck as he hissed, “Where is he?”  His breath smelled of strong alcohol.

Kathryn furrowed her brow.  “You’re…”

“He’s not our Chakotay.” B'Elanna whispered. 

“I can see that,” Kathryn snapped over her shoulder.  “He doesn’t have the tattoo.” 

At that moment another man came into view.  He was just as tall and broad as Chakotay, and had a disrupter in his hand.  B'Elanna would have recognized him anywhere.  “Ayala?” she asked.  But the man did not answer.

Chakotay stood and eyed Kathryn first, then stepped around to the other side of the puddle.  “You’re not the Intendant,” he said, getting down close to B'Elanna’s face.  He poked her in the shoulder.  “You’re too soft.”

“Excuse me?” B'Elanna hissed, attempting to wrench herself free of her confines but only twisting Kathryn until she yelped.  “Let me out of these ropes and I’ll show you how _soft_ I am.”

“You’re very observant, Mr. Chakotay.  It is Chakotay here too, isn’t it?” Kathryn said and B'Elanna shut her mouth.

“That depends on who’s asking.”  He stood and brushed his hands on his pants then turning to address his comrade, said, “Gunny, tell them to stop building the pyre.  We haven’t got the real thing.”

“You got it, Colonel,” the man replied, leaving B'Elanna’s view.

“Finally, someone who understands!” B'Elanna exclaimed, shifting uncomfortably again.  “Will you _please_ let us up?”

“Where did you come from, and why are you here?” he demanded.

“Colonel,” Kathryn chanced.  “We’re from another universe, and we came in search of _our_ Chakotay.  He went missing several days ago.”

“And you expect to find him in a labor camp?”

“Not specifically, no.  But somewhere in your universe.  We have photographs of him being abducted by a dark-skinned, Vulcan man and an individual who looks a lot like me, both wearing Alliance uniforms.  Any idea who or where those people might be?”

“You ask a lot of questions for someone still tied up and sitting in mud.  But, it just so happens that I do know _who and where those people might be_ ,” he parroted with a smirk.  “And, seeing as I have the both of you, I think that we can be of mutual benefit to each other.”

“You’re sure we’re not too _soft?_ ” B'Elanna jabbed.

The man known as _the colonel_ stooped low, ran a finger along B'Elanna’s jaw and smiled.  “I guess we’ll find out.”

* * *

“Tell me of your progress, Professor.” Kat sauntered into the laboratory, carrying a covered tray which she deposited on his bed. 

Positioned over a complex scanning machine, Chakotay was preparing to load the last of the artifacts into a sterile chamber.  The lab within the Intendant’s Palace, which had become both his new prison and workspace, was a good deal larger than the one he had been confined to on the transport vessel. 

“I’ve just loaded the last one.  It will take a while to finish analyzing.”  He pressed a few buttons and the machine hummed and whirred.

Turning to her, he realized that she seemed different than she had while on board the ship.  Something had changed.  There was an ease to her movements now, and dare he say, she seemed more pleasant, even perhaps, happy.  He had to admit that he too felt a certain amount of relief at being back on Earth, even if it wasn’t exactly _home_.  Though he hadn’t seen the outside world yet, he was reassured to know that he was no longer a prisoner in space. 

“Good.  That will give us some time to talk.”  She sat on the edge of his bed and patted the spot beside her.

“You want to talk?  To me?”

She nodded.  “Sit.”

“Okay…”

“I brought you some soup,” she said, lifting the lid on the tray.  Immediately the warm smell eased into his senses, grounding him in a way he hadn’t been in weeks.  “My Chak –, that is, the Chakotay from this universe… this was his favorite,” she said, thrusting the bowl into his hands.  “It’s mushroom.”

He breathed deeply from the steaming, creamy bowl then took a tentative sip from the spoon.  At the taste of it, he couldn’t help but smile.  “This is… really good.”

She shrugged.  “Flattery will only get you more bad soup.”

He laughed, “I’m serious, it’s good.  You’ll have to teach _my_ Kathryn to make it some time.”

“She doesn’t make it for you?  My… er, Chakotay had the recipe passed down to him from his grandfather or something like that.”

“Yes, same.  But, no.  I’ve never had Kathryn cook anything for me that didn’t turn out slightly scorched at the edges.”  The first bites of real, hot food in over a week made his stomach growl.

“I’m sure she makes up for it in other ways.”

“She does.” He paused and put the spoon down.  “That’s the first I’ve heard you really speak about the Chakotay from this universe.  So you have met him then?  He’s still alive?”

She looked to her hands and he was suddenly aware that he had made her uncomfortable.  “I have, unfortunately, yes.  He’s an arrogant, bull-headed thief.  He’s also a liar, a deserter and a cad and I hope to whatever spirits the two of you believe in –“

“Woah,” Chakotay replied, one hand in the air.  “Easy.  I’m not him, remember?”

She took a calming breath.  “Sorry.  I just… yes.  I’ve had my run-ins with him.”

“It’s okay.  Let’s talk about something else.”  He picked up the spoon again to finish his meal.

“It’s been hard this last week, looking at you,” she admitted.  “Looking at you and not seeing him.”

“If it would help to yell at me on his behalf, you’re more than welcome.”

She snorted.  “Thanks, but I’m not quite that far gone.  Besides, he did give me one good thing in this life.”

Chakotay took a sip of his soup.  “What’s that?”

She shook her head.  “Doesn’t matter.  I want to know more about you.  About the Kathryn from your universe.”

With little else to do, and seeing an opportunity to further ingratiate himself to his captor, Chakotay agreed. “What do you want to know?”

“How did you two come to be together?”

“I was part of an organization known as the Maquis.  We were fighting to keep our homes after they had been given back to Cardassia by the Federation.  Captain Janeway was sent to capture us, but –“

“Yes, yes,” she interrupted.  “I know all of this from your file.  I want to know, how did you grow close?  You are close, are you not?”

Chakotay tugged at his ear.  “We are, yes.  I guess after seven years in exile, working side by side, our relationship developed rather naturally.”

“Were you intimate while in the Delta Quadrant?”

“Oh, um,” he stuttered at her candor.  “No, actually.  Several years into our journey we acknowledged that there was an attraction between us, and one that we both wanted to explore.  But we had to wait.  It wouldn’t have been appropriate.”

Kat slanted her eyes.  “Not appropriate?”

“Kathryn had a lot of responsibility.  We decided it best to save our private relationship for after we returned home.”

“So, when you got home then…”

Chakotay sighed remembering all that had transpired in the days and weeks after _Voyager_ returned.  Promotions, debriefings, job offers, reuniting with family and friends, grieving with the relatives of those who were lost along the way… 

“It was a whirlwind.  But, about six months later, after things settled down, yes.  We started seeing each other… romantically.”

“She didn’t have anyone waiting for her?”

“She was engaged to a man named Mark when we went missing.  But after so much time, thinking she was dead, he moved on.  And so did she.”

“Mark,” she repeated dryly, an air of disdain in her voice.  “Mark… Johnson?”

Chakotay nodded.  “That’s right.  Do you know him?”

“In this universe he married my sister.”

Chakotay had to laugh.  “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Why not?”

“Where I come from, Mark and Phoebe are…” he considered his words carefully.  “Not exactly compatible.”

“They’re not compatible here either, but he knocked her up so that was that.”  She shook her head disapprovingly and for a moment Chakotay was sure that she looked sad.  “So, you and Kathryn are free to ride off into the sunset then.  Are you getting married, having children?”

“You know,” he considered, putting down the empty bowl, “the soup was good, but I’m not sure this is any of your business.”

“I’m trying to gauge how close you two really are.  I’m wondering why she hasn’t come to rescue you yet,” Kat said bluntly.  “The Intendant is concerned that taking you captive will draw attention from your friends.”

“They probably don’t know where to look for me.  I was alone on that planet,” he lied. 

“But she knew where you were.”

Chakotay shook his head sadly, for this he didn’t need to deceive her.  “Kathryn was away on a diplomatic mission, as you already knew.  And I didn’t exactly leave a note…”

Kat raised an eyebrow.  “Trouble in paradise?”

“None of your business.”

“Well, you’d better hope that she doesn’t jump to conclusions and come to your rescue,” Kat warned, rising from her seat.  “I’m having enough trouble keeping the Intendant from torturing you, I certainly wouldn’t be able to keep your Kathryn safe as well.” 

“The Intendant wants to torture me?”

“She wants to torture everybody,” Kat scoffed.  “Lucky for you, she’s got another Terran right now that’s keeping her occupied or when we’re done here she might just keep you for herself instead of letting you go.”

The soup churned in Chakotay’s stomach.  For the first time he was having serious concerns about the other end of the bargain.  “She’s not really going to let me leave here, is she?”

“As long as you do what I ask, everything should turn out fine.”

“If you’re trying to motivate me to help you, you’re doing a lousy job.”

“I have many ways of motivating you to help me.  Lying to you is not one of them.” She stood suddenly then, taking his tray. 

“Good to know.”  It was then that Chakotay realized she was leaving.  “Wait,” he jumped. “Don’t go.  I… I want to learn more about you too.”

She paused.  “There’s not a whole lot to tell.”

“Not much to tell?  How about we start with this.  Why are you serving the Alliance?  Why are you the second-in-command for a ruthless, murdering, lecherous Intendant instead of off fighting the good fight for the Resistance?”

“What do you know of our war?” she accused, and he sensed a spark in her voice.  “You’ve been here a week and you think that you know which side is good and which is not?”

Chakotay pushed back firm, but calm.  “I think that if you’re siding with someone who is oppressing your race without mercy, you might need to have a look at your priorities, yes.”

What started as a brief flicker of anger flashed into a fast-burning rage.  “How dare you _judge_ me!” she bellowed. “How dare you assume that you know what I've been through!”  

The ferocity with which she began to approach took him aback, but he stood his ground as she closed the distance, felt the heat of her breath as she continued mere centimeters from his face. 

“How dare you second guess the decisions I’ve made and presume to know the price I’ve paid for them.  You think you can possibly understand my motivations?” She put both hands on his chest and shoved him back.  He took a careful step away so she could continue.  “Joining the Alliance is just the tip of what I would do to protect –“

And she stopped talking.

“To protect what?”

Her head shook quickly, vibrating with rage.  “No.  No, I’m not going to be drawn into this with you.  You’re a prisoner for fuck’s sake!”  She grabbed for a book from the table, brandishing it at him.  “You.  You need to get some results and get them fast.”  She slammed the volume down, scattering the other objects there and turned heel toward the door.

With her body halfway through the exit, he went out on a limb, followed another hunch, and stopped her with five quiet words.

“How old is your child?”

* * *

On the outskirts of the Terran settlement, B'Elanna and the admiral sat close together, drying out by a small fire.  Mike Ayala – who preferred the name ‘Gunny’ – was there as well, sharpening a knife and roasting an animal he had caught on the end of a pointed stick.

While Colonel Chakotay spoke at length about the current state of the occupation of Earth and how he had become a leader within the Resistance movement, Kathryn couldn’t help but let her eyes gaze upwards.  It was unnerving, she thought, the lack of stars in this smog-filled, orange-hazed sky, the intermittent sounds of shouts and screams in the distance, and the persistent stench of sulfur.  She felt smothered.

“The Alliance has acquired some kind of ancient weapon.  We’re not sure what it is, but I have it on good authority that it’s going to demolish our efforts to retake and rebuild Earth.  The Inquisitor arrived with it, and an archaeologist who knows how to use it, three days ago.”

Kathryn’s attention swung back.  “An archaeologist?”

“It has to be him,” B'Elanna said, hopeful.

“Archaeologists are hard to come by in this universe,” the colonel agreed.  “The Alliance apparently came by this one near the Cardassian border.”

“Which is where Chakotay went missing,” B'Elanna noted.

“Speaking of people being hard to find,” Kathryn interjected, putting thoughts of Chakotay aside for a moment.  “We understand there are others being brought to this universe.  You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Nope,” the colonel replied quickly.

B'Elanna and Kathryn simply stared back at him.

He huffed a sigh.  “All you really need to know is that we’re in grave danger.  Up until a few months ago, the Resistance was being defeated at every turn.  We were losing people, losing ground.  With reinforcements we’ve started to make real progress, but it’s been hard.  Our efforts have attracted attention and as retaliation, we lost Paris last week.”

“Paris,” Kathryn remarked, catching B'Elanna’s eye.

“Blevins,” she sighed.

“It was one of the final free cities on Earth.  Unfortunately, we didn’t have enough leadership there to defend it,” he explained.  “I know it’s hard to understand, but we’re doing what we have to do to stay alive.  Which, at the moment, means finding and destroying the Alliance’s new weapon.”

“Do you know what or where it is?” B'Elanna asked.

“We know the ship carrying it came back to Earth just this morning.”

B'Elanna shook her head.  “For such an oppressed people, you certainly don’t have any trouble gathering intelligence, do you?”

At this, Gunny chuckled.  He wiped his glimmering blade on his pants and sheathed it.  “We have operatives in all levels of the Alliance,” he boasted.

“A few even work for the Intendant,” the colonel interjected.  “Our most valuable ones make their way into her bed.  Which leads me to what you can do for us.”

B’Elanna closed her eyes and groaned.

“She tells a lot of secrets to her lovers, she likes to brag to them.  The one she’s keeping right now has a transponder he’s been using to slip us information.  Unfortunately, the power cell gave out a few days ago and he’s been incommunicado. We need you to get to him, find out what he knows about this weapon and give him a new communicator.”

“You’re forgetting that we’re not here to help you wage war, we’re here to get our friend back,” Kathryn reminded.

“If the Inquisitor has captured an archaeologist from another universe, she’d want to keep him close by.  If he’s anywhere, you can bet he’s within that complex.  After you deliver the transponder to our man, and debrief him, you can try to locate your friend.”

B’Elanna leaned forward, “How – exactly – am I supposed to infiltrate her home?  It must be heavily guarded?”

“Her palace complex is a fortress.  But you are genetically identical to the Intendant.  I’ll arrange for one of our operatives to transport you there. You’ll make it through the scans without a problem.”

“Where is _there_ , exactly?”  Kathryn asked.  She shifted closer to the fire, trying to drive out the cold which had cemented into her bones.

“I’ll give you the coordinates of a storage room off her east wing,” the colonel said to B'Elanna.  “The Intendant keeps a very strict schedule, so you’ll wait there until she’s gone for the morning.  You’ll only have about an hour, two tops.”

“I’m going with her,” Kathryn spoke up.  “If my counterpart is the Intendant’s second-in-command then I should make it through the scan as well.  I can search for Chakotay while B’Elanna interviews your inside man.”

The colonel considered their request, glancing at Gunny who simply shrugged.  “Okay, fine.  You’ll go too.  But I’m warning you, that palace won’t be a walk in the park.  You’re doubling your chances of being discovered.”

“It’s a risk we’re willing to take,” Kathryn assured.

From behind the campfire came the shuffle of footsteps as a slender figure approached.  “I heard we had visitors, Chakotay,” said an eerily familiar voice.  The woman wound her hands around the colonel’s neck and he leaned back to kiss her firm and full on the lips.

Kathryn’s stomach flipped.  B’Elanna averted her eyes.  When the couple broke apart, the woman sat down beside the Colonel, placed her hand on his upper thigh and took a swig from his mug. 

“Kathryn, B’Elanna,” he began, “I’d like you to meet my wife, Seska.”


	6. Everywhere life is full of heroism

* * *

 

The great machine hummed and whirred, beeped and whined.  Through it all, Chakotay tried to sleep.  It was the middle of the night by the time the analysis concluded – not that he had truly known day or night in over two weeks.  The scanner had been working tirelessly for hours, breaking down the strata within the alien material, gathering detailed pictures of the microscopic carvings inlaid there, all the while running its findings through a syntax analyzer compiled from Chakotay and Vash’s meticulous hand-translations.

At the sound of the completion alarm, Chakotay was roused from his less than restful slumber.  With a groan, and a fighting against a sudden spasm in his back, he rolled off of the hard cot.

“Lights,” he ordered, squinting as the brightness assailed his eyes.

In a fog of drowsy, stiff discomfort, he began to read through the results.  What he saw woke him up faster than would a bucket of ice water atop the head.

“Oh…” he muttered, placing a hand over his mouth.  “Oh no.”

He scrolled through the symbols, skimming the translations and reading as quickly as he possibly could, coming to read and re-read one particular result over and over in disbelief.  “Oh no… no, no, no….”

With a jolt, he got up sharply to pace, hands wringing through his unwashed hair.  “This can’t be right.”  His pulse raced, and the original adrenaline shot had his ears ringing.  After a moment, he came to a stop.

“There has to be a mistake,” he hoped aloud.  And so, he went back to the analyzer, took a deep breath and tried to be more objective.  But after an hour of finding no such errors, his stomach remained permanently clenched.    

“Computer, eject specimens.” 

One by one, each of the six pristine artifacts was retrieved.  He laid them on the table, eyes darting back and forth between them and the final results.

“Why?  Why would they create something like this?” he asked the empty room.

For a moment, his thoughts flashed again to Kathryn.  He thought of her smile and her laugh.  The way she felt when he was holding her so close…

Dread prickled his throat and eyes.

There was, he realized, just one option, and he was bound by oath and honor to see it through, despite the fact that he would simultaneously sign his own death warrant.

Palming one of the artifacts, Chakotay rose it above his head.  “Spirits, let this work,” he whispered.  Then he slammed the object to the ground with all of his might.

The obsidian impacted with a bang and laid on the floor.  Chakotay retrieved it and examined it frantically.  There were no cracks, no dents, no marring of any kind to its pristine surface. 

“Shit.”

Then, he took a second artifact and used it to pound mercilessly on the first until he broke a sweat.  His clenched hands began to ache and his arms fatigued from the assault.  Again the ancient objects remained unscathed. 

Turning to the analyzer with one piece in his hand, Chakotay thought about how he might modify the laser scanner to melt or burn the material.  But he was no engineer, and in all likelihood messing with that equipment would probably only result in personal injury.

He combed the room for other options then moved for the metal cot, placed the piece under the leg and brought the weight of it down, full and hard.  Still, no effect.  His ears rang from the commotion and he began to tire, breath heavy and head throbbing.

Out of ideas, Chakotay slumped to the floor and hurled the object across the room.  It struck the wall and fell with a thud.

Head in his hands, he thought again of Kathryn, of the journey they had fought so hard to make, of the lives they had saved and lost along the way.  

Of all the time they had wasted.

And then he realized that, by his own doing, none of it would matter anymore.

* * *

“What the actual hell is going on in this universe?” B'Elanna whispered to Kathryn once they had settled into their makeshift sleeping bags.  “I’m the leader of Earth, you’re my second-in-command.  Chakotay is married to Seska, who by the way, is human…”

“She’s _not_ human.”

“Well she _looks_ human.”

“We can’t stir up trouble here,” Kathryn warned.  “I’m not willing to make _this_ Chakotay angry or suspicious in any way.  You keep your knowledge about Seska to yourself, do you understand?” It was the first time she felt the need to use a harsh tone of voice since they’d arrived and she hoped it would be her last. 

“If Seska is a double agent, we’re probably not worth blowing her cover,” B'Elanna offered.  “Besides, they’ve helped us so far.  And we’ve actually got a decent plan…”

In the silence, Kathryn took a moment to flip through the events laid out for the next day.  They’d transport into the palace complex, hide until they could make their way to the Intendant’s chambers and question the slave she kept there in the hopes that he knew something about Chakotay’s whereabouts.  From there they’d have to improvise.  If Chakotay was nearby, Kathryn would try to free him and get him back to the beam-out coordinates within the two hour mark.  B'Elanna would remain to debrief the spy.  If any of that went awry they’d be well and truly stuck – likely killed – behind enemy lines.

“B’Elanna,” Kathryn said, with sudden seriousness.  “If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.  I understand.  You have a family to think about, and –“

“Stop,” B'Elanna interrupted.  She rolled to her side to look at Kathryn with great seriousness.  “You and Chakotay _are_ my family.  I will do whatever is needed to get him back.  So please, Admiral, don’t discount me again.”

Kathryn smiled softly.  “Thank you.”

“Plus,” B'Elanna shrugged, lying back once again.  “With how odd things are here, I’m rather curious to see about the Intendant’s taste in men.”

Kathryn chuckled lightly.

“Speaking of things that are odd,” B'Elanna went on, “I just can’t shake this Colonel Chakotay off.  He reminds me so much of the man I served with in the Maquis.  All that pent up rage and confident bravado.  It’s eerie, especially with Ayala right there by his side.  But, then there’s Seska…”

“What about her?”

“She’s nice!  She tried to give me her dinner and got him to offer us their tent.  I just can’t wrap my head around her.”

Kathryn grew silent.

“Sorry,” B'Elanna apologized.  “I guess it must be hard to see Chakotay with someone else.”

“This isn’t our Chakotay,” Kathryn reminded.  “But, no.  It’s not my favorite thing to witness.”

“He wasn’t happy with her, you know that, right?  Our Chakotay.  I’ve known him a long time and he’s never better than when he’s with you.”

Kathryn sighed and shifted against the hard ground.  Blood pounding in her ears, she wondered just how much she should reveal about their supposed happiness.  And then, somewhere between the orange-dyed horizon and the waning firelight, the words left her lips without hesitation.

“I’m thinking of ending things with Chakotay.”

“What?” B'Elanna gasped. 

“He wants a commitment from me.  One that I’m not sure I’m willing to make again.  I don’t want to wait so long that I also destroy our friendship.”

“I don’t understand.  I was under the impression that you two were just waiting to be home so you’d be free from the command structure and conflict of interest and all that.”

“We were.”

“So what happened?”

“We got home,” Kathryn said, and in admitting that simple fact to herself, she already felt lighter.  “We got home and I’m not quite sure what to do with myself.  I spent so much time focused on a single goal, I closed off everything that I used to be.  The person who left Earth eight years ago, the one who used to know how to be in a relationship, she doesn’t exist anymore.”

“That’s okay,” B'Elanna said.  “She doesn’t have to.  _She_ isn’t the person that Chakotay wants to be with.  _You_ are.  Although from what I understand, he’s not getting much of a chance to be with either of you.  What’s this I hear that you haven’t been on Earth more than two weeks in a row since we’ve returned?  Can’t you get Starfleet to ease up?”

“I’ve been requesting the missions,” she admitted.  “The longest ones on the list, I’ve asked for them all.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to be out there.  I want to be useful,” she lied.

“You want to be distracted,” B'Elanna realized.  “You’re afraid that if you put your feet on the ground and your head on _his_ pillow you’re going to have to think about your life as more than just an officer.”  B'Elanna shook her head.  “I never thought I’d see the day that Kathryn Janeway took the easy way out.”

Though the words stung, try as she might, Kathryn couldn’t refute that argument.  “Mostly, I don’t want to hurt him,” she admitted after a time.

“I really don’t see that happening.”

“I’ve been engaged twice before, B'Elanna,” she confessed.  “In love, or what I thought was love, too many times to count, and every single time it has ended badly.  Chakotay never understood why I wouldn’t let myself get close to him when we were on _Voyager._ Certainly he respected my decision, but he never understood it, he still doesn’t.  And now that we’re home I continue to keep him at arm’s length.  He’s starting to take it personally.”

B'Elanna rose up on her elbows and met her eyes.  “Do you love him?”

The weight of her question hung in the air, thick as sulfur from the nearby mines.

Kathryn opened her mouth to answer but B'Elanna stopped her with a hand.  “Don’t tell me.  Tell yourself.  And then tell him. He’s a big boy, he can take it.  But if the answer to that question is anything except a definitive ‘no’, and you walk away, then you are cheating yourself out of a whole lot of happiness just because you’re scared.  Chakotay will give you all the time in the world, he’s proven that already.  He doesn’t expect you to jump into something you’re not ready for just because you’re now allowed to.  All he needs from you is your honesty.”

They lay in quiet for a time, Kathryn watching the flicker from the fire die slowly, the final sparks drifting up into a starless sky.

“B'Elanna,” Kathryn’s voice quivered, breaking the silence.

“Hm?”

“Do you think he’s still alive?”

“Yes.  I absolutely do.”

“Good.  Because I have something I need to tell him.”

* * *

Chakotay hadn’t seen Kat for over a day, not since he had asked the personal question which went unanswered.  She had left him with no food – her delicious soup now but a distant memory.  Having been decently cared for up to that point, he had stopped rationing things away.  It was a rookie mistake which left his stomach rumbling.

Besides being hungry, Chakotay was growing increasingly anxious.  Even after a relatively short time in solitary confinement, he found himself craving human contact; anything for the distraction from a mind wracked with fear and guilt.  He’d gone too far in this quest for answers.  He’d let his own curiosity about the Iconians lead him right into very dangerous territory.  He now knew what the artifact did and had a pretty good idea of how – and where – to use it.  Information he might have to die to protect.

When Kat entered unannounced, a bar of pre-packaged food in her hand, his relief at seeing her was palpable.  And his only goal was to somehow convince her that using this weapon would be devastatingly wrong.

“You’re back,” he said, looking up from feigning interest in a book of drawings he had made.  “And it looks like I’ve been relegated back to rations.  Nothing homemade this time?”

“I’m here for your results.  And if you don’t have any, this will be your last meal.”

He nodded.  “I see.”  He put down his pen and pad and took the offering from her, placing it gently on the table next to his pile of sketches. “Is that the only reason you’re here?”

“It’s the only one you should be concerned about.”

“I was rather hoping you would opt to finish that conversation we started the other day,” he said as innocently as possible.

“The one where you were questioning my morality?  Why would I even bother?”

“Because something about that conversation bothered you deeply.  You’re defending your actions for the wrong side and you know it.  My question is, why?”

“I didn’t realize you were a psychologist as well as a commander, professor and moonlighting archaeologist.”

“I’m not.  I just know you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know a version of you.”

“A much better one, I’m sure.”

“She’s been through events in her life that have shaped her differently, that doesn’t make her better or worse.”

Chakotay moved for the bunk and took with him the food she had brought.  He peeled the wrapper slowly, trying not to appear too eager to eat, but his growling stomach betrayed him.  “Would you like to know more about what she’s like?”

“Do I want to hear that there is a universe out there where I’m all candy and flowers and Miss Fight-for-the-poor, Steal-from-the-rich?  No.  Absolutely not.”

“Her life hasn’t been a great one, you know?” he said honestly.  “She’s seen her fair share of heartache and loss.  She’s sacrificed more for duty than any officer should ever be asked to.”

“But she still ended up on the side of good despite all of that,” Kat countered.  “And look what it’s gotten her, she’s home with her family, she has you, and a career, and respect.  Whereas I didn’t choose the path of righteousness so I must be wrong, I don’t deserve any of those things.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.  Everyone has different motivations for their decisions.  And I think I hit on yours the other day.”  He eyed her closely.  “Was I right?”

Kat took in a deep, steadying breath and exhaled slowly.  “Yes.” 

He allowed her the space and silence until she was ready to continue. 

“His name is Edward.  He’s eight next month.”

“Edward.  After your father.”

“You’re quick.”

“It stands to reason,” Chakotay replied.  “In my universe, Kathryn was very close to her father.”

“So he’s dead there too, huh?  It’s just as well,” she crossed her arms over her chest.  “He’s the only man I ever really trusted, the only one who didn’t try to screw me over on a regular basis.  But that’s probably just because he didn’t live long enough to get the chance.”

“Did he serve the Alliance as well?”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” she glared.

“A lot of what drives my Kathryn to make the decisions that she makes was the ethical foundation given to her by her parents.”

“You’re psychoanalyzing me again.”

“Ok, then let me ask you this.  Would your father be proud of what you’re doing here?”

“My father was killed by an Alliance patrol.  He was killed protecting me and my sister when we tried to get clean water to take a bath.”

Chakotay let go of a heavy sigh.  “That’s horrible and I’m sorry.  No one should have to go through that.”

“I survived.”

“What about your mother?”

“She was already dead.”

Chakotay sighed.  She didn’t need his pity, but he certainly needed her help, so he pressed forward.  “Back to my original question.  Would he be proud of you?”

“I don’t need approval from a dead man.  I learned a lesson from him instead - that I need to do whatever it takes to survive.  Everyone I’ve ever cared about has died at the hands of the Alliance.  I sided with them because they are strong.  Because if I do my job, I won’t be punished or persecuted.  I have value here, I have respect.  But most of all, I’m safe… at least, safer than I would be on the other side.”

“It’s important that you feel safe?”

“My son needs a mother.”

“What about his father?”

“His father deserted us.  I haven’t seen him in years.”  She watched him eat the last crumbs of food and then turned her attention to the analyzer. “Why are you asking me all of this?  Are you trying to distract me?”

“Yes,” he replied honestly. 

“You’re finished analyzing the artifacts and you think that I’m going to kill you once you tell me how they work?”

He shook his head.  “No.  That’s not it.”

“What then?  Tell me what you’ve found.”

“I want you to know, I could stall for time.  Delete the files, make you run the analyses again.  But it wouldn’t really get me anywhere.  Not in the grand scheme of things,” he admitted.  “So I’m going to tell you what I’ve found and implore you to consider what it means.”

“Fine.  Go.”

“These artifacts won’t simply close the doors to the other universes.  It will destroy them.  It’s a kill switch.  A… a cosmic whirlpool that will spin all of the other universes back into the one where this artifact is activated.”

Kat furrowed her brow.  “How is that possible?”

“The how isn’t important.  All I know is that I’ve never met a piece of Iconian technology that has failed to work in the exact way it was purported to.  And I’m one hundred percent sure that this will do what I’ve just said.”

“How do we activate it?”

Chakotay shook his head.  “That’s as much as I’m going to say.”

“I have to be honest, I’m surprised that you’re sharing this information with me so willingly.  I expected you to put up more of a fight.”

“Having the pieces and knowing what they will do, doesn’t help much when you don’t know where they go or how to work them.  And that information isn’t available in the translations.”

“But, you’ve surmised them?”

Chakotay remained silent.

“I have ways of finding things out, you know,” she warned.

“Is your safety, Edward’s safety… his future…  Was it really worth selling out your entire race?” Chakotay asked.  “You’ve been a party to keeping your people enslaved, and now what?  You’ll be aiding in the decimation of entire universes.  Is keeping him safe worth your soul?”

She looked him up and down, then met his eyes with a sternness he’d not seen before.

“It’d better be.”

* * *

The sun was just beginning to peak over the crest of the hill when B'Elanna and Kathryn had finished donning the counterfeit Alliance uniforms that Seska had pulled together for them.  While Kathryn checked the scar-like makeup on the side of her face in a handheld mirror, the colonel pulled B'Elanna aside.

“While you’re over there, I need you to do something else for me,” he said.

B'Elanna straightened her sidearm and then made her belt one notch tighter.  “What’s that?”  When he didn’t answer immediately, she looked up to see him shifting nervously.

“There’s someone who lives in the Intendant’s palace.  Someone who is very important to me and I just wanted to make sure that they’re ok.  Since I haven’t heard from our operative in a while…”

“Sure, who is it?”

“His name is Edward.”

B'Elanna nodded and continued adjusting her makeshift uniform, not quite sure it was fitting right.  “Edward, got it.  Is this a friend of yours?”

“He’s my son.”

B'Elanna’s stomach sank.  “Your son?  Why isn’t he here with you and Seska?  Was he taken prisoner?”

“Seska isn’t his mother.  Look,” he said hurriedly.  “I don’t want to get into it, just ask how he’s doing, okay?”

“Alright, alright.  I’ll ask.”

“Ready to go?” Kathryn asked coming up from behind with Seska in tow.  B'Elanna noted that the admiral’s bootleg uniform was also a few sizes too big and that Seska was trying – without much luck – to fix Kathryn’s hair. 

“She wouldn’t let me cut it,” Seska scowled, siding up to her husband.

B'Elanna shot an amused glance at the admiral and then replied, “Ready as we’ll ever be.”

“This is the new transponder for our operative,” Seska said.  She reached into her pocket and produced a small vial.  “Once activated, it will transmit continuously, just like the one he had before.  Tell him if he’s still there in six months we’ll find a way to get him another.  And please, reassure him that his efforts are helping us win this war.  His sacrifice is not being made in vain.”

The colonel flipped open the communicator in his palm.  “Alliance base three-four-seven.  This is the Intendant’s personal guard.  Request beam out from sector delta-eight-four to Palace complex location C-fifteen.”

_“Acknowledged.  Initiating scan.”_

Colonel Chakotay covered the mouthpiece on the communicator.  “That’s Kohlar.  He works for us.  He’s going to verify your bio-signature and then you’ll be transported.  Remember, he’ll scan for you again in the same location in exactly two hours and return you here.  If you don’t make it back in time, you’ll be on your own for another full day until he’s on shift again.”

The women nodded their understanding.

 _“I’ve got them,”_ Kohlar confirmed.  _“Initiating transport.”_

B'Elanna felt the transporter take hold and the world around her disappeared.

* * *

Kathryn and B'Elanna materialized as planned in a darkened storeroom off of the servants’ corridor.  B'Elanna peeked out and was relieved to see that the surrounding area was deserted.

They checked their hand-drawn map one last time and then strode out confidently.  In just three turns and a few minutes of walking, their surroundings had changed drastically. 

Red and black flags of the Alliance hung from the rafters of the great hall.  At ground level, the structure was elaborately adorned with dozens of metal and stone warriors, indicative of classical Klingon architecture, and for a moment B'Elanna swore she was inside the Great Palace of Kahless on Qo’noS.

A set of gigantic wooden doors, reinforced in iron, stood foreboding at the end of the hall. 

“Let’s hope she didn’t pick today to sleep late,” B'Elanna joked nervously, feeling a lump rising in her chest.  There was a time that a mission such as this would have excited her, but at that moment she couldn’t help but feel completely and utterly vulnerable.  Her hand twitched to the disrupter on her belt.

Upon reaching the door, Kathryn activated the scanner and motioned for B'Elanna to place her palm there.

The pad beeped and they heard the click of the door as it unlocked.

“After you, _Intendant,”_ Kathryn said, pushing the heavy wood with all her weight.

Once inside, the duo paused in the cavernous antechamber.  B'Elanna’s stomach roiled at the grandeur of it all.  While her counterpart lived in decadent splendor, countless others were outside suffering in servitude, dying for just a chance at freedom.  Steeling herself, she regained her courage and wanted only to meet the Intendant so that she might have the chance to slay her with one of the many bat'leths hanging from the wall.

Heavy red-velvet curtains were straight ahead and with no time to waste, B'Elanna followed the admiral through them.

The first thing she saw was a massive bed.  But past that, in a window-lit corner, was a stone table.  The man sitting there was bathed in sunlight as he stared outside and drank from a gold cup.  His hair was longer, his naked back marred with bruises and scars, but B'Elanna would have known _him_ anywhere.

“Tom?” she gasped.

The man nearly fell out of his chair.  “Mistress!” he exclaimed, then he hit the floor.  Averting his eyes, he worked desperately to unfasten his belt.  “Forgive me mistress, I had forgotten that you would be back this morning, please,” he begged, crawling to the bed.

“Stop, stop!” B'Elanna exclaimed.  “I’m not the Intendant, I’m not your… mistress.”  She glanced back to Kathryn who wore a matching horrified expression.  The man resembling Tom froze on his knees and looked up cautiously.  His tousled, sandy-blonde locks fell into his eyes.

“Stand up,” Kathryn said.  “Please.”

His vision darted between the two of them.  “Is this some kind of game?” he asked hesitantly.  “I know you spoke of bringing the Inquisitor to your bed, but I didn’t –“

“Oh, for the love of –“ B'Elanna held up a hand.

“We’re not who we appear to be,” Kathryn interrupted.  “We’re from another universe, we’re working with the rebels, specifically Colonel Chakotay.  We’ve come to give you a new transponder and get some information.”

“I know nothing of the Resistance, I know only you, Mistress,” he repeated his devotion from the floor.

“Look at us closely and do it quickly, we don’t have much time,” Kathryn ordered.

Tom stood hesitantly and fastened his pants.  “Here,” B'Elanna said, retrieving the transponder from her pocket.  “See?  A replacement.”

He stepped to her and examined her features closely.  Then, without warning, he yanked her closer, putting his lips full on hers, winding his tongue into her mouth.  B’Elanna gasped and tore herself away, then slapped him firmly across the cheek. 

“Nice slap,” he grinned.  “But you’re right, you’re not my mistress.  You’re much too… soft.” He licked the taste of her from his lips.

“Why do people keep telling me that?”

“Tom,” Kathryn said, drawing the conversation back to focus.  “It is Tom, isn’t it?”

The man nodded. 

“Tell us what you know of an archaeologist that was brought here by the Inquisitor’s ship.”

“Oh, uh.  Well, Kat’s captured some kind of Iconian expert,” he said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.  “He’s been studying artifacts found by another archaeologist.”

“Vash?”

“I never knew their name, just that they were lying about the location of some puzzle piece, and not making enough progress so she had ‘em killed.”

“Lovely.”  B'Elanna tried to ignore the way that Kathryn had suddenly grown very pale. “Do you know where the new archaeologist might be located?”

“Oh, sure.  He’s in the laboratory complex.  As for the artifacts, she’s confident that they will allow her to take control of, God, I dunno.  Whatever the hell it is she doesn’t already control.”

“We need directions to that lab,” Kathryn impressed. 

“You’re mounting a rescue?” he asked, incredulous.  “You all are crazier than the real –“

“We don’t have time,” B'Elanna reminded.

“Fine, fine,” Tom put his hands up in mock surrender.  “Down the hall, take the staircase to the left.  Five levels to the basement.  From there, I’m not sure.”

Kathryn shook her head.  “That’ll have to be close enough.”

“We have ninety-eight minutes,” B'Elanna said, looking at her chronometer. 

“Debrief him.  I’ll be back with time to spare.”

* * *

With only fifteen minutes remaining until it was time for their scheduled beam out, B'Elanna paced anxiously in the Intendant’s chambers.  She had committed to memory all of the information Tom had to offer and now was about to ask a few questions of her own.

“The colonel wanted me to ask you about a child named Edward.  Do you know him?”

Tom nodded with a sad smile.  “I do.  The last I saw, Chakotay’s boy was doing fine.  He’s growing big and strong, he’s very bright.  Tell him that Eddie beat me at chess the other day.”

“I didn’t realize that the Intendant let you interact with others.”  She looked down.  “I guess I thought you were confined here.”

Tom shrugged.  “On occasion I get out.  The Inquisitor was away the last few weeks but left Eddie behind so I doubled as a babysitter.  She won’t trust anyone else with him.”

“What does the Inquisitor have to do with Eddie?”

“Kat?  She’s Eddie’s mom.”

B'Elanna rubbed her forehead. “Of course she is.  Damn.  This place is unbelievable, you know that?”

Tom’s demeanor soured slightly.  “I’m not sure this needs to get back to Chakotay, but I’m worried about Eddie.  My mistress left in one hell of a mood this morning.  She was threatening to skin the kid alive if his mother didn’t return with some kind of coordinates for something or other.  I couldn’t quite understand what she was getting at.”

“She’d hurt a child?”

“She’s do just about anything to anyone if it meant furthering the greatness of the Alliance.” She felt his gaze pierce through her again.  “Things are pretty different where you come from, aren’t they?”

B'Elanna paused her pacing and came to sit next to him on the bed.  “Very different.”  Everything about this man’s life was in contrast on the one she’d come to know.  But it was something about his eyes that made him seem so very familiar.  “You should come back with me,” she said impulsively.  “I can get you out, right now.  You don’t have to live like this anymore.”

Tom smiled softly.  “I appreciate the offer, I really do.  But I do more good for the Resistance right here, in this bed, than I ever could on the outside.”

“But what about you?  Don’t you want to be free of… of this?  Don’t you want some kind of a life?” she motioned to the room and as she did so, she caught sight of a set of shackles on the headboard.  It made her cringe.

When she turned back she saw that in his eyes there was no fear, no shame, just an unwavering, stoic commitment to his cause.

Tentatively, she reached out to touch his chest.  Her fingertips grazed along a long, pink scar that stretched from his collarbone down to the center of his ribs and he watched her as she moved along it, capturing her hand in his.

“To end the oppression of my people, I would do anything,” he said.  “And I know that someday she may tire of me.  On that day, my life will be over.  But I like to think that she feels something for me deeper than the pleasure that I bring her.  There are times that I see it.  Times that maybe I even feel something real in return.”

B'Elanna’s breath caught.  “I have to go,” she said sadly.  Then she leaned in and placed a lingering, gentle kiss on his cheek.  “Please, stay safe.”

“I’ll try.”

* * *

B'Elanna made it to the beam out site with only a few minutes to spare.  In the empty utility closet she tapped her foot nervously and looked to her chronometer.  “Where the hell are they?” she muttered. Without another minute to wait, she decided she would have to leave to go look for the admiral.  But she was too late, the moment her hand touched the doorknob she felt a familiar tingle take hold of her senses. 

The Intendant’s palace twinkled away.


	7. In the face of all aridity and disenchantment

* * *

Chakotay had little time to mull over his situation after divulging his findings to Kat.  Less than an hour later, three menacing guards appeared at the door to the lab.  From there, they escorted him to the Intendant’s personal prison and shoved him into a bare cell.

He was seated on the cold hard floor attempting to meditate when he heard the other prisoners roar. 

From behind heavy-lidded eyes he looked up to see a figure being cast headlong into the compartment across the row.  Whoever it was, wasn’t doing well.  In the dim light, Chakotay saw the individual collapse to the ground where they remained unmoving for an extended moment.

When the newest prisoner finally ushered a sound, to his dismay, Chakotay realized that the person was a woman.  Her shadow shifted.

“Are you okay over there?” he asked softly, so as to not rouse the dozen or so other prisoners who had grown quiet again.

There was a pause and he licked his lips then moved closer to the door to his cell.  “Hey, are you alright?”

“Chakotay?”

Even hushed, the voice was unmistakable.

“Kathryn?” he breathed.  His heart beat wildly and he pressed his face into the bars.

“Yes.  Oh, Chakotay,” she said.  “Thank God.  Is it really you?”

“It’s me.  What are you doing here?” his voice was frantic.

“I came looking for you. Oh, ah…” she moaned. 

“You’re hurt.  Shit.  What did they do to you?  Kathryn, are you okay?”  He wrapped his fingers around the bars, straining to get a better look.  To his fears, she didn’t move closer.

“They worked me over a bit,” she said, and he could hear the pain in her voice.  It was her breathing, he realized – labored and short.  His mind raced back to what he saw as she had been led in.  Did the guard kick her?  Was she thrown to the ground?  He couldn’t be sure.

“Are you bleeding?  Can you breathe?  Did you hit your head?”

She chuckled and then stifled a groan.  “What exactly are you going to do from over there, Doctor?  Treat me?”

“I guess not.”  The reality of her being there slowly sunk in.  “I didn’t know anyone tracked me here.  You shouldn’t have come, Kathryn.  You shouldn’t have put yourself –“

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she interrupted.  “I had to come after you.  I just wish I hadn’t gotten caught in the process.” He heard her rustle.  Her voice was softer when she spoke again.  “I thought you’d be in the lab.  If you had been, I might have succeeded.” 

The ache of regret ripped deeper and wider.  It was less than an hour’s worth of time that had foiled her plans.  After all of this… an hour. 

 “Kat moved me here this morning when I wouldn’t give her the information she was looking for,” he said finally.  The irony threatened to consume him and he tightened his grip on the bars.

“Ah, Kat,” she breathed.  “My counterpart.  Apparently there are a few guards who don’t think very highly of her and they took it out on me.”

Chakotay clenched his jaw at the thought.  “Are you going to be okay?  Please, tell me the truth.”

“I’ll be fine.  But Chakotay, I need to know about the weapon they’ve acquired.”

“It’s a long story…”

“Well…” she paused to cough, turning her face away from him.  When she returned to view, she whispered, “I’d say we have some time.”

* * *

“Two minutes!” B'Elanna shouted to the sulfur sky.  “She had two more minutes and your p’tak initiated the transport!  Have him send me back!”

“I can’t do that,” the colonel impressed.  “Would you please calm down, you’re going to draw attention.”

B'Elanna growled low and paced with shorter strides.  “What the hell am I going to do now?  I have to get back there to find her.  How far away is the palace?  I’ll walk there if I have to.”

“It’s in Kyoto.”

B'Elanna’s face fell.  “Kyoto?  As in… Japan?”

He nodded.

“Fuck!”

“Please!” he hushed.  “Look, I am very sorry that your admiral got lost in the basement, but she’s not my primary concern.”

“Well she is _mine_ ,” B'Elanna met him toe-to-toe, “and unless you want me stirring up an awful lot of trouble, you’d better help me come up with a plan to get her back.”

“Kohlar is on duty again in sixteen hours.  I will contact him and see if he would be willing to get you back over there, but B'Elanna, I’m telling you, we’re putting him and our operation at great risk by doing this.”

“Sixteen hours…” B'Elanna shook her head.  “It’s too long.”

“There is literally no other option.”

* * *

Having relayed all pertinent information regarding the Iconian artifacts, and a few other tidbits about the odd universe they were now inhabiting, Chakotay finally had nothing left to divulge.  All the while, Kathryn remained seated on the floor by the bars of her cell, just barely within his view.

In speaking, he hoped to keep her awake and engaged.  He tried desperately to monitor her condition, continually asking how she was until she grew so annoyed that she stopped responding. 

“Kathryn?” he asked warily.  “You’re staying with me, right?”

“I’m here,” she affirmed softly.  “But Chakotay, I’m so tired.”

Her breathing was again coming across as labored and short.  “Just try to get some rest,” he told her.  “You can fill me in on how you got here when you wake up.”

She did as he said, lying down gingerly on her side.  Chakotay felt his own fatigue set deep in his mind and body.  He laid across the front of his cell, just able to make out her hair through the bottom of the bars.  And there, he too drifted into an uneasy slumber.

* * *

A stout young man raced through the labor camp by moonlight, papers clutched in his hand, hurdling logs and rocks, being whipped by branches as he ran.  Breath ragged and legs on fire, he finally reached his destination.

“Colonel,” he hissed.  Then he whistled low at the outside of the tent.  “Colonel Chakotay, get out here.”

A moment later, the flap was pushed open.  “What is it, Jose?”

“I’ve just finished listening to Tom and the Intendant.  It’s bad, sir.  It’s really bad,” he rushed.

The colonel wiped the sleep from his eyes and led the man to a nearby grove of trees where they wouldn’t disturb the others.  “Tell me.”

The man rustled through his notes, nervously flipping through the pages.  “Where’d it go, where’d it go…” he mumbled. “Oh, here!  She told him about the weapon.  It’s Iconian alright.  That bastard double of yours translated it all,” he rustled the pages again, reading frantically.  “They’re uh… they’re going to use it to destroy all the other universes so that we can’t keep bringing people over.  She thinks it’ll kill all the displaced recruits that we’ve already got too.”

He frowned.  “Anything else?”

“Oh yeah, it gets worse.  Apparently the weapon will only work if it’s put in a special receptacle on some other planet.  Your double knows where that is and isn’t telling.”

“Well, at least he’s keeping his yap shut.  How is that worse?”

“Sir,” he said seriously.  “She’s gonna kill Eddie if the Inquisitor doesn’t report the location by noon tomorrow.”

* * *

The great hall inside the Intendant’s palace complex was as grand a place as Kat had ever seen.  Thick, dark columns stretched up into a ceiling so high that they all but disappeared.  Shining black marble floors – not at all unlike the artifacts which brought her to this place – threatened to swallow her whole.  And in the middle of it all was a massive red and gold throne.  The woman seated there held an expression which betrayed no sympathy.

“Does he know the location, or doesn’t he?” the Intendant demanded impatiently.

“I… I’m not sure.”

The half-Klingon sucked a breath in through her nostrils, closed her eyes, and exhaled a growl.  “Don’t make me repeat my question, Inquisitor.”

Kat swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.  She’d only been the focus of the Intendant’s wrath once before and she didn’t desire to draw that sort of attention again.  “He does.”

“Then why don’t _we_ know the location?” she bellowed, rising up like a phoenix from her throne. Her presence overtook the room. 

“He’s refused to answer any more questions.”

“And?!” the Intendant boomed, her voice echoing through the vacuous space.  “That’s never been an issue before!  You _are_ Inquisitor, are you not?  I have provided you with many resources with which to _inquisit,_ ” she snapped.  “Why aren’t you using them?”

The ruler stepped down from her throne and Kat had to resist the urge to back away.  She stood her ground on shaking legs.  “I know the problem here,” the Intendant hissed in mock realization.  She sauntered confidently closer until she was right in Kat’s face.  “He looks too much like your former lover.  Talks too much about what you could have been.  He’s gotten to you.”

“That’s… that’s not true Intendant, he’s given me so much information already –“

“So now I’m a liar?”

“No!  No.  Intendant, no.  I’m simply trying –“

“Enough.” And with a wave of her hand so quick it was imperceptible to the eye, the Intendant brought up a knife hidden in a sheath on her leg.  Downward, slowly, starting at the hairline by Kat’s ear, the blade seared a familiar course along the side of her cheek.  And icy chill ran through her as she flashed back to the last time she had been the focus of the Intendant’s ire.

“Would you like me to gift you with a matching set?”

“No, Intendant.”  The flesh of her cheek warmed the Intendant’s lingering blade.

“Or, perhaps, your child should bear the mark of failure this time?”

Kat froze.  “Please,” she whispered.  _Please don’t hurt him._

“The last time I had to threaten you, it worked in both of our favors.  You delivered the results I wanted and I promoted you.”

“Yes, Intendant.  I’m grateful.”

“As you should be,” she sheathed her weapon in another swift move, allowing Kat to breathe once again.  “Your position at my right hand is one that draws scrutiny from many.  They think you shouldn’t have the honor to hold the title of _Inquisitor_ thanks to your race.  But, as you know, I’ve always been partial to Terrans.”

“Yes, Intendant.  You’re very kind –“

“I give equal chances to those who prove their loyalty to me, which you have done up until this point.  But.  I have given you more than enough leniency with our present guest.  As with the Vash woman, you repay my patience with failure.”

“I’m sorry, Intendant.  I won’t –“

“You’re right.  You won’t.”  With a swift clap of fingers against her palm held high in the air, the Intendant summoned a guard from the shadows. 

“Let go of me!” a small voice shouted.  Kat froze, her heart plummeted deep into the pit of her stomach.  This moment was always inevitable, she knew, though deep down she was loathe to admit it.  The Intendant had never used Edward as a pawn before, but Kat’s illusion of such safety for her son evaporated in that instant.  The truth was, regardless of the side she chose, neither of them would ever be truly safe.

A shuffling of resistant feet could be heard as the boy was pulled by his unruly, dark hair into the chamber, but Kat didn’t dare look away from the tyrant who held his life in her hands. 

Upon seeing his mother, the child froze.

“You have two hours to report the location of the planet which holds the Iconian receptacle.”  The Intendant’s scowl went right through Kat.  “Do I even need to make the threat?”

Kat fought the urge to look at her son, but soon found she could no longer resist.  For the heartbeat when she met his gaze, his eyes pled for reassurance and she had nothing but regret.  Edward was always her biggest weakness.  Her biggest risk.  Her greatest joy.  And she had but two hours to ensure that he would continue to live.

“No, Intendant,” she replied quietly, bowing her head.  “I’ll get the information.”

“If that p’tak leads us on a Targ chase, you will _all_ pay.”  She warned, leaning back into her throne.  Smirking, but softening, she continued, “And I expect to be shown appreciation for the leniency I’ve shown you in this matter.  As it happens I’ve had a rather enjoyable morning and I’ve decided to be kind.”

“Thank you, Intendant.  It was most generous of you to –”

“Get out of my sight!”

Heart racing inconceivably fast, and unable to look back, Kat bowed her head and made a hasty retreat from the chamber.  As she went, she made a thousand silent prayers to the spirits of both Chakotays’ ancestors to watch over their son.


	8. As far as possible without surrender

* * *

Chakotay had been restless for most of the last hours while Kathryn continued to sleep.  He was in the process of stretching when he first perceived impatient footsteps growing louder, faster, closer down the hall. 

They _– she_ – could only be coming for one thing. 

“I no longer have time to play games,” Kat announced, halting in front of his cell.  She unlocked the metal gate and strode purposefully inside.  Behind her were two heavily armed Klingon guards. 

“So we can go home then?” he asked seriously.  Across the aisle, Kathryn stirred from where she had been resting and moved to observe their interaction.

“Tell me the location.  I need to know where the artifacts can be utilized.”

“I don’t know,” he replied bluntly.

“You _do_ know.  You _have_ to know,” she impressed.  Her eyes bored right through him as they stood toe-to-toe.

“Okay, fine,” he threw up his hands, feigning defeat.  “You’ve got me.  It’s under table number six, in the back corner of a little bistro in Venice, just south of the Ponte degli Scalzi.  Of course, that fine establishment may not exist in your universe.  Why not let me take you back to mine?  I’ll buy you a cup of coffee, you can destroy eternity...”

“I don’t have time for jokes,” Kat roared.  “I need the location and I need it _now.”_

“I told you,” he began again.  “Table number six –“

“Shut up!”  Her open hand cracked across his cheek.  “I don’t have _time_ for this.”

He licked his lips, smiling slightly.  Playing games might only cause trouble in the long run but in that moment all he could think about was buying time. “I thought you wanted me to talk.  You know, too much stress can cause confusion, are you sure you don’t want to go Venice?  It’s very relaxing, just ask Kathryn…” he motioned across the walkway.

Kat’s hands began to shake at her sides as she started to pace. “I want…” then she took a carefully metered breath.  “I want you to tell me what I need to know so that I don’t have to hurt you.  But whether you do this willingly or not, by the time the hour is up, I _will_ have what I need from you.”

He eyed her curiously.  “Something’s changed.  Why are you suddenly so desperate?”

“If you cooperate, this doesn’t have to be painful.”

“I’ve been tortured before,” he informed her, waving her off yet again.  “Why is this so urgent now?”

She motioned for him to leave the cell, but his feet remained rooted to the spot.

“The Intendant threatened you, didn’t she?” he asked.  Kat’s steps betrayed a slight pause.  “No.  It’s worse than that.  She threatened your son.”  Without wanting to, his eyes darted quickly toward Kathryn.  He could make out the side of her, but not her face, as she leaned against the wall closest to him, still eavesdropping.

“I could kill her,” she said, catching where his gaze had wandered.  “I could let her bleed out right before your very eyes.”

“You could.  But you know it wouldn’t work.  You’re talking about obliterating entire universes – it’s an unfathomable atrocity.  You can’t expect me to be a party to it, no matter the cost.  And you shouldn’t be either,” he reminded.

With a hard swallow and a swift, practiced movement, Kat raised the weapon that had been holstered level with his chest.  He obeyed her silent motion to move toward the exit. 

Two strides into the hallway, Chakotay paused his steps.  Slowly and carefully so as not to startle the guards, he turned to where Kathryn was and stepped to her.  Through the bars, he took her hand in his own.  “I can’t let them find out,” he said sadly.

“I know.”

“Move,” Kat ordered.

He stole one final look into her eyes and then her fingertips fell from his palm.  He continued down the hall with the heavy steps of a dead man walking.  Far enough away from where Kathryn could be injured by crossfire, Chakotay spun unexpectedly on his heels to launch himself at the closest guard.  His fist landed squarely against a thick jawbone.  The Klingon reached for the knife sheathed on his thigh as the second guard raised his weapon to fire. 

“Hold your fire!” Kat screamed.  “Don’t hurt him!”

Both guards froze as ordered.  Chakotay’s breath ran ragged.  With no one left to fight he dropped his fists.

“Trying to commit suicide? And here I thought you might cooperate with a modicum of dignity.”

The guard with the sore jaw moved back to Kathryn’s cell, ripe with anger.  He brandished his knife and unlocked her door.

“I’ll go,” Chakotay choked, realizing that his ploy had failed. “I’ll go.”

“Leave her alone,” Kat ordered, then she turned back to her prisoner.  “No more warnings.  You try that again, she dies and you live.  I’ll make sure of that.” 

Defeated, he continued walking.  

“He’s not going to be safe here, you know this,” Chakotay said, looking over his shoulder.  “Deep down you know it, even if you don’t want to admit it.” 

She didn’t respond. 

“The Intendant is going to threaten your child and use him every chance she gets.  She will _always_ have him to hold over you.”

They passed through the doorway to a small room.

“Sit down,” she directed him, motioning to a simple metal chair which sat under a pendant light.  He placed his arms on the rests, staring straight ahead.

“Torture can take days, you know.  I thought you said you didn’t have a lot of time.”

“I don’t,” she replied, fastening a set of leather straps around his left forearm and another at his wrist, an act which was then repeated on the other side. 

“Truth serums take a while too…”

“And sometimes they don’t work at all.  I can’t take that risk.” 

If he wasn’t going to be injected or tortured, Chakotay could think of only one other possibility.  And it scared him more than he cared to admit.  “I’m not going to talk you out of this, am I?”

She snugged tight matching loops around his ankles.  “I told you, I’ve run out of time.”

A second door, previously unnoticed, slid open from behind.  Unable to turn his head fully – and reasonably sure he didn’t want to know who had come – he made do with concentrated focus on the bare wall while she disappeared to converse in whispers with the visitor. 

Despite his best efforts to remain calm, adrenaline began to pump with every quickening beat of his heart.  He found his mouth suddenly filled with equal parts cotton and sand, ears ringing, breath short, every muscle prepared for fight or flight, every nerve ending primed for input.

A second metal chair was pulled forth from the corner and shrieked its resistance against the stone floor, deafening his oversensitive ears.  Then, and only then, were Chakotay’s fears realized.  For at that moment he was faced with an unsettling grin sandwiched between two pointy ears.

“Tuvok,” he breathed.  The name from his tongue felt like an admission of defeat.

“Get the location from him and nothing else,” Kat warned.  “Don’t play around in there.  Not with this one.”

Chakotay steeled his chin trying desperately to breathe himself into a quick meditation, directing every stray thought away from what he knew they desired. 

He thought of Kathryn and only Kathryn as the man positioned himself in front of Chakotay’s chair.

_Her hand feels warm in mine.  We’re walking through Federation plaza in the noon-day sun.  Children are laughing.  She’s smiling.  She’s really all I’ll ever need.  I have to keep thinking about Kathryn…_

Dark fingertips were pressed one at a time onto the sides of his face.

_Drinking coffee now at that little spot by the bay.  She loves it here so much.  Look at her smile.  It’s so good to be home…_

“My mind to your mind.”

_I love that she’s let her hair grow longer in the last year.  It tickles my face when I kiss her neck.  She smells like vanilla and tastes so sweet…_

“My thoughts to your thoughts.”

_Her skin is soft.  She giggles and erupts in gooseflesh when I brush the sensitive part just between her shoulder blades…_

Pressing fingertips turned to needles which punctured his skin, driving into his cheek and chin and skull.

_She’s running from me now, I’m chasing her.  Why does she run?  She screaming my name.  No, it’s not my name, she wants me to stop.  Why can’t I stop chasing her?_

Burning points of light radiated through his skull, weeping into his veins, spreading like venom.

_She’s standing on a precipice now, the whole world has gone to flames and smoke.  Don’t get any closer!  Kathryn!  She’s fleeing from me, but no!  Don’t!_

“My _mind_ to your _mind.”_

_Her body is falling, falling, I can see it and can’t look away.  The fiery abyss will soon claim her, I have to follow, I can save her, I have to save her…_

“My _thoughts_ to your _thoughts.”_

_Her body is burning but it’s not her anymore.  It’s Voyager.  Cracking and breaking apart into chunks of flaming metal and points of light.  Screaming, I hear screaming.  Our crew is inside, they can’t get out…_

But it wasn’t the ship breaking apart. It was his own skull splitting in half, the fire which had entered through those dark fingertips burned and seared ever hotter, spreading through his mind, catching everything there aflame. Every thought he’d ever had, everything he’d ever wanted, every dream he’d ever had to let go lit up as dried kindling. 

Every fear that was ever realized.

Every person he’d ever cared for.

Every moment of regret.

Every future he’d never have.

Burning.

Eyes forced wide open, he could not look away from the scorching flames, heat growing impossibly more intense. 

Fields of dreams and realities, slashed and burned until there was nothing left but ruins.  Ruins of names and dates, places and feelings, experiences and memories in heaps in a charred field.

Laid bare across that smoldering wasteland of his mind was the accumulated knowledge of his lifetime. 

The Vulcan walked through with weighted steps, gathering papers and padds, bits of stone and shards of knowledge, each one scorched round the edges, chucking back into the piles those which did not serve his purpose.

One of those papers - buried within a stack, hidden between a hundred other such smoking heaps - held the name of a planet.

_Show me._

Try as he might, and he did try, he was now absolutely powerless to keep the information safe any longer.

The scrap flew forth from a pile with magnetic force, attracted by the Vulcan’s palm. 

There, together, they saw the coordinates.  

**7-624-29**

And then everything went suddenly, mercifully dark.

* * *

Colonel Chakotay pushed through the canvas flaps of B'Elanna’s tent just before dawn, startling her awake. 

“There’s been a change in plans,” he announced while she rustled free of her sleeping bag and out of the shelter.  She brushed away his offer to help her to her feet. “We’re not going to risk transporting you back into the Intendant’s palace.”

“What the hell?”  B'Elanna exclaimed, still wiping the sleep from her eyes.  She drew up close to his chest.  “You promised me –”

“There won’t be enough time,” the colonel interrupted.  “While you were sleeping I learned what that Iconian weapon is capable of.  The Intendant is going to attempt to use it to wipe out every universe outside of this one.  If she succeeds, we will lose our best hope at ending the occupation, not to mention destroy the multi-verse, which I’m pretty sure you’re fond of.  And just now we’ve heard from Tom that she’s departing within the next couple hours.”

B'Elanna took a moment for the information to sink in.  “Where is she going?”

“I’m not sure, likely wherever she needs to be to activate this ancient device she’s found.  She’s taking your Janeway and Chakotay with her as some kind of proof that it has worked, because if it does, you’re all going to disappear into oblivion.  I’m going to stop her.  And I’m willing to take you with me, but you have to swear to me that your first duty will be to make sure that your counterpart doesn’t use the weapon.”

B'Elanna paused.  “If she uses the weapon, everything I’ve ever known will cease to exist?”

“That’s the theory.”

“And she’s taking Kathryn and Chakotay with her?”

“Apparently.”

“Then, yes.  I’m with you.  But how exactly are we going to follow them?”

“When the Intendant travels, she takes a protection detail with her.  Six small fighter ships, each equipped with a cloak.  And I just happen to know where she keeps them.”

* * *

From the side of her cot, Kathryn found herself unable look away from the corridor down which Chakotay had disappeared.  Between the clatter, conversations, and moaning of the other prisoners, she had to strain for any chance at identifying his voice or any other sound which could be attributed to him.  Try as she might, she heard nothing as the minutes stretched on endlessly.

Then, there was the muffled echo of a scream.

While tears formed behind her closed eyelids, she begged silently for mercy on his behalf.  She had watched an ominous looking Tuvok march down the hallway and into that room, understood without question what was going on.  She knew that Chakotay would be no match for a forced mind-meld, but could still hope that he would emerge with his sanity intact.

Her side began to ache and throb; she had been sitting hunched for far too long.  Stretching out gingerly, she winced, laid down, and tried to stay calm. 

What she assumed was about an hour later, the door to the room clanged open.  Kathryn righted herself and craned out just in time to see Kat emerge.  With long strides, the Inquisitor disappeared the way she had come, – presumably with the information harvested at Chakotay’s expense. 

Kathryn hung her head and stared into the concrete.  Queasiness from her own injuries and thoughts of their bleak situation threatened to floor her, and in that state, she didn’t notice the approach of two familiar guards.

“You,” one of them barked.  “With us.”

She rose tentatively and allowed herself to be led away.  Prodded by the point of a disrupter rifle against her back, they traversed a set of passageways before eventually stopping at a transporter pad.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

The second one answered by driving the butt of his weapon into her already broken ribs.  She lurched forward onto the pad, doubled-over and gasping as the transporter took hold.

The first thing she saw upon rematerializing, was Chakotay. 

He was curled in the fetal position on a medical cot in yet another brig-like cell.  This time though, there were no other prisoners around.

She stumbled at first, still reeling from the latest blow as she tried to rush to his side. 

“Chakotay,” she whispered.  With her palm, she smoothed back the sweat-drenched hair where it lay over his brow.  A few drops of dried blood dotted the thick growth of scruff above his upper lip.  His skin was eerily cool to the touch and for just a moment, she feared the worst. 

Kneeling beside his low bed, she tentatively felt for a pulse, exhaling in relief upon finding it strong and steady. 

Then, with an unexpected lurch and the hum of what could only be impulse engines, Kathryn realized that they were aboard a ship.

At least, she realized upon looking around, they were to be well cared for.  A generous platter of food and a pitcher of water, along with a stack of heavy blankets had been left for them.  She used one of them to warm Chakotay, pulling it tight around his body and up under his chin, and then, she waited.

And waited.

And forced herself to drink some water.

And waited some more.

She had just begun to succumb to her own exhaustion when she heard him moan.

“Chakotay,” she gasped.  She left the second cot to hurry to his side once again, pushing away the sharp pain that radiated as she moved.

His breathing grew ragged and uneven as he roused.

“Chakotay, it’s me.  Kathryn.  You’re going to be okay.”  She pressed her palm to his chest.

“Kat?” he whispered, voice raspy and dry.

“Can you sit up?” she asked, offering him a hand.  “You should drink something.”

“Kat?” he questioned again, blinking his way fully awake as he righted. 

“It’s Kathryn, actually.  Only Aunt Martha used to call me Kat and I still hate it.”

He paused to stare at her, squinting and sizing her up. 

She sat the cup down on the floor.  “See?” she asked, turning her untouched cheek to him.  The makeup she had worn to facilitate her original mission to the palace had been stripped away upon her capture, a fact for which she was now grateful.  “Kathryn.  Not Kat.”

His expression didn’t change and she sighed. “You don’t believe me.  Of course... You think she’s still trying to get information out of you.  I’ll have to prove myself to you then.”  Kathryn slid closer to him and put her hand over his, then spoke with intimate softness. 

“The first time we kissed was at Phoebe’s wedding.  We were dancing, and you said that I looked beautiful.”

He smiled softly, turning his palm upwards into hers.  “I said ‘you are beautiful.’  There’s a difference.”

She demurred, then continued.  “And then you led me out to the balcony…”

“It was hot.”  He touched his forehead.  “I was sweating.”

“No.  It was freezing outside.  There was snow, don’t you remember?”

“I was nervous,” he admitted, then he finally accepted the water she’d been offering and took a tentative sip.  “Who did she marry?”

“Clarissa.  Why?  Who did she marry in this universe?”

“Mark.”  He sat up a little straighter against the wall and drank some more. 

“Mark?” Her disbelief quickly spread into a chuckle.  “My Mark?  Now that’s a pair I’d like to see.” She helped him readjust his blanket and sat down, snuggling as close as she could without putting pressure on her ribs. 

“I didn’t realize you still thought of him as _your_ Mark.”

“You know what I mean.  In any case, did I pass my test?”

“I’m too tired to think of more questions.”  He relinquished the cup in favor of clutching his knees to his chest.  “Aren’t you cold?”  He asked, his eyes betraying a deep-set fatigue.

“I think you were in shock, but you’re coming out of it now.  Just keep talking…” she rubbed his arm, warming him further.  “I tested you like this once, remember?”

“8472.”

“That’s right.  You gave your resignation to Namimby – the very man you work for now, by the way – on March 3rd, 2367.”

“Sixty-eight.”

“Ah, now I know you’re who you say you are,” she smirked.

“I wish I wasn’t, then maybe my head would still be in one piece.”

“Is it bad?” she asked, running a palm across his tattoo and down the side of his cheek.  She was relieved to notice that warmth was returning to his skin.

“I haven’t had much worse,” he admitted.  Something must have clicked in his memory just then, as his breath quickened and his eyes darted to scan her all over.  “You were hurt,” he remembered with a gasp.  “Are you –“

“I’m fine, Chakotay,” she reassured with a hand on his chest.  “I’ve got a broken rib, maybe two.  Nothing worse than that.  Besides it’s not as if we can do anything about it here.”

His eyes remained fixed on her for an extended moment and she tried to put him at ease with a smile.  Her gesture either worked, or he was too tired to press her, because he relaxed and instead took in their surroundings. 

“We’re on a ship now?”

“Yes, they beamed us here right after Tuvok was done with you.”

“Tuvok,” he remembered with a hard swallow.  “I couldn’t keep him out.  I tried, Kathryn.  I tried so hard… It was like being roasted alive.”

“It’s okay.  You’re going to be okay now.  We’ll find another way out of this, I promise you we will.”


	9. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness

Under the cover of darkness, B'Elanna, Colonel Chakotay, Seska and Gunny were transported into a thick bamboo forest outside of Kyoto, approximately three kilometers from the Imperial hangar.  To have been beamed in any closer would set off any one of a thousand sentry alarms, the colonel had explained, but fortunately he was no stranger to the mountain foothills.  Having been deposited there once before, and stumbling on the hangar then, was one of the more fortunate things that had happened in his life and now he intended to make good use of that knowledge.

The colonel only wished that they had more time to break into the complex before the squadrons would be reporting for duty.

“We have thirty minutes, tops,” he reminded, activating his flashlight.  “Let’s get moving and remember, stay close or our dampening field will fail.”  He quickly double-checked everyone’s wrist devices – they were all active – and then set off into the woods. 

Eighteen minutes later, the colonel could make out the lights of several small outbuildings and slowed his pace.

“Okay,” he said, halting.  Everyone paused to catch their breath.  “We’re going to go at this from the north.  You can’t see it yet, but there’s a big building in the center of the complex.  That’s where the fighters are stored.  Gunny, Seska and I will cover B'Elanna at the access door where she will use her handprint to get us inside.  I expect at least two guards on patrol.  Keep your eyes peeled and if we have to, we’ll take them out – _quietly_.  Everyone clear?”

Nods all around, flashlights off, and they were on the move once again.

Crouching low to avoid casting long shadows, and moving swiftly, the colonel felt a reserved sense of pride for the small team he had assembled.  He knew what to expect from Seska and Gunny, having been in battle and covert operations with them many times before.  But, despite her success in the Intendant’s palace, B'Elanna still felt like a wildcard.  Still, he was impressed by the way she had adapted quickly to their situation.  She moved like a lean cat as they made their way to the hangar, stayed calm and focused, and he didn’t doubt that she’d hold her own in hand-to-hand combat.

He hoped that he wouldn’t have to find out.

The four pressed their backs to the exterior wall of the concrete building.

“That was easy,” Seska whispered.  “Madam Intendant must be feeling comfortable these days.”

“There’s a guard coming,” Gunny announced, looking to his scanner.  “Twenty meters around the other side and approaching fast.”

“Let’s get on with it then,” the colonel said, motioning to the door.

B’Elanna pressed her hand to the reader and held her breath.  With a soft chirp and a click, the entrance unlocked.  “We’re in,” she whispered.  The three huddled behind her and she pushed inside.

Everything within the structure was silent. 

Six _Delta Flyer_ -sized fighters sat idle on their pads, barely illuminated by dimmed fixtures from above. 

“Which one?” Seska asked. 

The colonel motioned with his head toward the one closest to their position, fighter number five, according to the markings. 

Without warning, all of the lights in the complex came on, the impromptu brightness blinded them.

“Shit!” Gunny swore.

“Shh!” B’Elanna nudged him, and he covered his mouth. 

Quickly, the colonel motioned to a row of cargo containers not far away.  They all crouched low and out of sight.

“They’re reporting in,” Seska said, motioning to a transporter pad at the far corner of the hangar.  Two uniformed Klingons appeared on the platform, slapped each other on the back and proceeded to their craft.  Not a moment later, two more appeared. 

The noise level in the structure rose with each hum of the transporter.  Chatter and whooping from the Klingon crews echoed about, punctuated by the clanging of hatches being opened, and the whirr of auxiliary systems coming online.  

Finally, the two-man team of craft number five opened their hatch and proceeded inside.  The colonel visibly counted down on his fingers and the group moved again, following the Klingons inside their vessel before the tailgate could close.

With disrupters drawn, the colonel entered first, flanked by Seska, while B'Elanna and Gunny covered the rear.  Oblivious to their presence, the Klingon crew settled into their forward stations.

Seska whistled, the two spun around in their chairs, but before they could stand or even grunt in confusion, they were vaporized in place by the colonel and his wife.

“We’re in business,” the colonel praised as he settled at the helm station with Gunny beside him.  Then he shot a look to the back where the hatch was being closed.  “Hope that wasn’t too much excitement for you, B'Elanna.”

“That was supposed to be exciting?” she retorted.  “I didn’t even get to use my knife.”

“The day is young,” Seska countered, smirking.

And then, situated inside their most perfect disguise, they waited for the Intendant to call for her escort.

* * *

Kathryn and Chakotay sat in silence for a while, side by side, not touching, but not ignoring either. 

While his headache dissipated, Kathryn scanned their cell for obvious signs of weakness.  Finding none, she went back to convincing herself that B'Elanna was going to get them out of this, somehow. 

His arm eventually came out from under the blanket to pull her closer, rousing her from her ruminations.  The hum of engines increased momentarily and then settled down, a feeling she recognized as jumping to warp.

“Where are we headed?” Kathryn asked.

“If I had to guess, I’d say… not Venice.”

She laughed sadly. “Probably not.”

“It’s the fifth planet in the Iconian system.”

“Well, we have a bit of time then,” she realized with a sigh.  “Might as well keep our strength up.  Are you hungry?”

“A little,” he admitted.  Kathryn extricated herself from his embrace and carefully tested her own mobility.  She moved cautiously to the platter to fetch them a chunk of bread and a piece of fruit.

“I’ll say one thing about this evil Alliance, they feed their prisoners well,” she observed. 

“You can thank your doppelganger for that,” he told her, readjusting his posture on the cot.  “Did I tell you, she made me soup?”

“She made you soup?  And then she tortured you?”  She slid back to take a seat next to him, offering him a choice of the food.  He took an apple.

“Surprisingly, the meal was not part of the torture.”

Kathryn hit him lightly on the arm.  “You’re sure this woman is me?”

His demeanor grew serious.  “This woman is a very desperate, very scared, very dangerous version of you, yes.”

“Why is she desperate?  What is she so afraid of?” she asked, nibbling on the bread.

“For starters, she has a child she’s trying to protect.”

Kathryn’s eyes grew wide.  “A child?  You left that out of our conversation in the prison.”

“It wasn’t pertinent.  But now it is.  She has a son, Edward.  And I’m fairly certain that _her_ Chakotay is the father.”

“Edward…” And the very name sounded like regret as it left her tongue.  “Oh… Oh my.  That does complicate things.  I’ve met you in this universe.  You’re, um… he’s married to Seska.”

At this, Chakotay seemed to have lost his appetite, setting down the half-eaten apple onto his lap.  After a moment he re-directed the conversation.  “I didn’t realize you had met anyone here.  Actually, I’m still not quite sure how you got here.  I certainly didn’t expect Starfleet to send you by yourself.”

“Starfleet wasn’t going to mount a rescue,” she admitted.  “I conducted this operation without their input or their approval.”

“So you did come alone…” he realized, and she heard the last of all hope float away in his words.

“I…”  Kathryn paused and peered out the forcefield to the guard.  He was completely preoccupied with picking his teeth.  “I appropriated my own resources,” she said in a low voice.

Chakotay relaxed slightly.  “Anyone I know?” he hushed.

“Let’s just say, she’ll fit in well here.”  Kathryn patted her hand on his leg.  “We shouldn’t give up just yet.”

* * *

B'Elanna wasn’t quite sure what to do with her time inside the cramped escort vessel.  A crew of two was all that was needed to man the craft, jobs that the colonel and Gunny had seen fit to fill since they had departed.  

In the back, behind a partial bulkhead, was a lone bunk with a table and a chair.  B'Elanna had found a Klingon history book stashed under the bunk’s mattress.  She was mindlessly thumbing through a horribly dry account of some glorious war that had been won centuries ago when the other woman in the room cleared her throat.  B'Elanna did her best to ignore the interruption.

“I make you uncomfortable, don’t I?” Seska asked, finally, looking up from where she had been playing with a deck of cards – also found stashed under the mattress.  The very sound of her voice made B'Elanna’s skin crawl.

“I… um.  I wouldn’t say that exactly.”

“You carry on conversations with my husband as if the two of you were old friends.  Even with Gunny you seem to have built a rapport.  So why not with me?”

B'Elanna folded the book closed in her lap and bit her lip.  “Where I come from, the woman known as Seska was my friend,” she admitted.

“And she what?  Died?  Did something awful to you?”

“Both.”

Seska’s face fell.  “Oh.  I’m sorry…”

“It’s not your fault,” B'Elanna hurried.  “It’s just that, well, I never expected to see _her_ again.  Let alone be crammed in a box with her for several days.”

“And I never expected to be sharing a bunk with the Intendant,” Seska retorted.  “You remember, she’s the tyrant who has killed and-or enslaved most of humanity for the last decade?  The one with a rather sizeable bounty on my head?  But I’m trying to look past your face and into your heart a bit.  And, I think that what I see there is good… not at all like the woman I’ve run into before.”

“Know what?  You’re right,” B'Elanna realized.  “I haven’t been fair to you.  You’ve done nothing but help me and here I am acting as if you are the traitorous, double-crossing hustler that I used to know.”

“And you don’t seem at all like the oppressive, murderous dictator that I’ve been fighting against.”  Seska slapped her hand on her thigh.  “Well, I’m glad we’ve set that straight.”  She pushed up from her seat and stretched.  “I think I’m going to see if one of the guys needs a break.  Maybe next time we’re both back here we can compare notes about how awful our doppelgangers are.”

“Actually,” B'Elanna said, looking her in the eye.  “I’d rather learn more about you.”

Seska smiled softly, nodded, and then pushed through to the front of the craft.

* * *

“Okay, what do I have so far?”  Kathryn leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.

“If you’re not going to pay attention…”

“I am paying attention, Chakotay,” she assured.  “It’s just hard to concentrate.”

“Are you still hurting?” he asked, lifting his own head from the wall to look at her.  She was still seated to his immediate left, one arm draped protectively over her side.

“You could say that.”

“I’m sorry…” he began to say, but she shrugged him off.  “It’s a guy.  Someone from _Voyager._ Not an engineer.  You have seventeen questions left.”

“Did he wear a blue uniform?” she asked.

“No.  Sixteen.”

“Okay, so he wore yellow then,” she muttered.

“Is that a question?”

She made an annoyed sound.  “Well, if he was a crewmember…”

“Did I say he was a crewmember?”

“So he’s not a crewmember?”

“Is _that_ your question?”

“Chakotay,” she sighed.

“You don’t want to play anymore.”

“No,” she lifted her head slightly then thudded it back again.  “I want to get out of here.  Is the guard even still over there?”

Chakotay craned his neck around the corner, the Klingon was reading a book.  “Yes.  He doesn’t seem to care about us too much though.”

When she spoke again, her voice was lowered.  “I haven’t seen anything in here we can make use of in an escape other than the tray that the food came on and the pitcher. Do you think we should make some noise, maybe try to get him to lower the forcefield and overtake him?  Steal his weapon.”

“We could.  But without any other help getting to the artifacts and off this vessel I’d say we’re pretty much doomed to fail.”

“Where’s your sense of optimism?”

“I left it in our universe.”

“Ugh…” Kathryn groaned.  “I hate waiting.”

At this Chakotay snorted.

“What?”

He shook his head.  “Nothing.”

“You were going to say something, what was it?” she prodded.

“You think _you_ hate waiting…” He watched as his words hit home.  Her expression went from one of curiosity to uneasy realization.  Suddenly filled with regret at bringing their relationship woes to the fore, he attempted to backtrack.

“Look,” he began again, “if I’ve learned anything from this whole experience, it’s that I think you’ve been right all along.”

“Right about what?”

“About waiting.”  He laid his hands in his lap.  “I never really understood why you wouldn’t consider a relationship while we were on _Voyager._   Why you gave up on that dream of having a family for yourself.  I respected your decision, certainly, but I didn’t agree with it.”

“But now?”

“Now I see that our survival – your continued strength to lead us home – was dependent on your ability to stay detached.  The Kathryn in this universe is bound to her child.  She’s not making decisions based on what’s right for the greater good, or even what’s best for them in long run.  She’s trapped in the here and now because of him, and it’s going to get them both killed.”

“It’s going to get a lot of people killed,” Kathryn sighed.  Then she looked up and met his dark eyes.  “Thank you, for what you just said.  It’s important to me that you understand.”

“I understand _then_.  What I don’t understand, is now,” he admitted.

“Are we really going to have this conversation?  Here?”

“This might be our last chance,” he said seriously.  Then his tone shifted slightly.  “Besides, isn’t that what people do when they’re held in confinement together?  Recount the past, regret lost time, profess their undying love for each other?” he snuck a look to gauge her reaction.  “And when we get tired of talking, maybe take comfort in each other’s arms… and lips… and…” he waggled his eyebrows.

She blushed and laughed.  “Your experiences with imprisonment are clearly much different than mine have been.”

“Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“I appreciate that, too.”

He moved to adjust their blanket.  “So…”

“How long did you say it would take to get there?” she redirected.

“Several more hours at least.”

“Ah…”  Kathryn looked to her hands and twined her fingers together nervously.  “Want more to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

The uneasy silence of a conversation left hanging filled the room.

Chakotay chanced a look out the forcefield.  The guard narrowed his eyes and grunted, to which Chakotay replied with a wave and a cheeky smile before leaning back against the wall.

“Okay, just… look.”  He drew her attention again.  “I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for.  I’m content to take our relationship as slowly as you need.  But, we’ve been pretty close for eight years.  If you don’t see a future for us – a real one, with a real commitment – then please, let me know now so that we can go back to just being friends before this turns into something we both regret.” 

The words had left him in a hurried rush, but upon suggesting that they be _just friends_ again, his heart began to race.

“You want to know why I haven’t said _I love you._ ”  Her blatant identification of his question felt like bricks as they hit his ears.

“Not just that specifically, but yes.  The topic has been on my mind.”

“I’ve been thinking about that too,” she admitted.  He saw her take a deep breath as if to steady herself.  “It comes down to this.  I’ve said those words to a lot of people through the years, Chakotay.  Too many.  School boyfriends.  Justin.  Men after Justin that I used so I wouldn’t feel so alone.  Mark, of course.  Jaffen…” she wrung her hands and he could see that she was thinking about each of the individuals in turn. 

“The truth is that before _Voyager_ I was never really alone.  Then we were stranded and I didn’t have the luxury of close companionship anymore.  For the first time in my life, I got used to being by myself; I convinced myself that love was something I had to live without and might never have again.  And now those memories – those feelings of having been in love – have drifted away from me, and all I know is how I feel about you...

“Saying _I love you_ all those times before…” she shook her head.  “I’ve cheapened it somehow.”

“What?” he whispered in disbelief.

“What I feel for you goes beyond love, Chakotay.  And I’m sorry if I haven’t made that clear, so let me try now.  You have become as much a part of me as my own hands.”  She looked down to where her fingers were still interlaced atop her lap.  She wiggled them, and clenched them to make fists as he watched. 

“Do I love my hands?” she asked, still staring at them.  “It’s an odd way to phrase it.  I _need_ them.  They help me work, they’re with me all the time.  I can never really forget about them, even if I’m not thinking about them specifically.  Without them, would I live?  Yes.  But my life wouldn’t be the same.  Something very important would be missing.  Does that make sense?”

Chakotay smiled softly.  “I think so.  But Kathryn, I should be more than something you need.  A lover shouldn’t just be a tool.  They should be something you want.  An indulgence you enjoy.  The person who brings you pleasure and helps you through pain.  Someone you can give your whole heart to, and just _know_ you have their whole heart in return.” He put his hand over his chest, pressing it tightly there.  “That feeling – _that –_ is the love part.  It’s the part you can’t quantify.”

“The part you can’t live without?”

He nodded.

“I’ve never felt quite this way about anyone before, though I’ve told so many others that I was in love with them.”  She dipped her head, shame and regret evident in her voice.  “And in time, I got over every single one of them…”

“Just because you feel differently about me than the others doesn’t mean you didn’t love them, or shouldn’t have.  I’ve been in love before as well, that doesn’t take away from what I feel for you.” He gathered her hand in his, gently stroking her with his thumb.  “When important relationships end, even when they end tragically, it’s healthy to eventually move on.  Your grief should lessen over time.  There’s nothing wrong with any of what you’re feeling.”

She looked up and for a moment he saw her true fear. It lived there, just past nostalgia and the pain of others who had come before.

“I don’t want to have to move on from you.  I don’t think I could survive it.”

He steadied his hand over hers, holding her lightly.  “I understand your hesitation given all that’s come before.   The future is never certain, just look at what we’re facing now.  But I’d ask for you to believe in us.  Because I do love you, Kathryn.  I ache for you.  I need you, and I want you, and I love you.  And I believe what we could have is worth the risk.”

She leaned into him and he wrapped his arm around her, holding her close, feeling her breath on his skin as she stretched up to kiss him lightly there, against the thick stubble on his cheek.  When he turned, he met her lips easily with his own.  

This, Chakotay comprehended, was more than the Kathryn Janeway he'd come to know - whole, honest, holding nothing back. As she sighed and mingled her breath with his own, he felt her give into him fully in a way she had never let herself before.

_This_  was the Kathryn he'd been longing for.

When she finally pulled away, she began to laugh, the echo of such joy bubbling up within him as well.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’ve never kissed someone with a beard before,” she smiled.  “And certainly not like that.”

“I’ve never been kissed like that either.”

“But you will be again, many more times,” she assured.  Her hand on his cheek came down to rest naturally on his thigh. 

He reveled in the pure levity brought forth into his soul.  It blew in as a fresh breeze through a stale room. 

_Many more times._  

His elation at her newfound confidence was to be cut short, however, as the footfalls of guards changing shift slammed him once again into reality.

“I hope we get the chance,” he said, then he lifted his gaze to the ceiling.  “Please, let us have the chance.”

* * *

Kat continued to observe the two figures on her monitor as they stopped talking and drew closer to each other once again.  The admiral laid her head against Chakotay’s chest and he soothed her as they whispered too quietly now for Kat to hear. 

Just before she clicked off the computer screen, Chakotay pressed a kiss into Kathryn’s hair.

Sinking back into her chair, Kat let go of a heavy sigh.

From the other room she could hear Eddie talking to himself, reading perhaps, a sound that usually made her smile.  But at that moment all she could feel was a deep, aching sorrow, eclipsed only by her own guilt.  She rose and padded softly to his doorway. 

Eddie was holding something up to the large viewport, a stone, perhaps, and he seemed to be considering it against the backdrop of space.  When he perceived her behind him, he quickly snapped his fist closed around the object and thrust it into his pocket.

“The stars are so bright out here,” he remarked as she came around beside him.

“That they are.”  She placed a kiss on the top of his head, allowing his thick dark hair to tickle her cheeks.

“I’m glad the Intendant decided to let me come.  Even if I am just here so that she can threaten you.”

Kat’s expression grew serious.  “What do you know of that?”

“I know that there’s something important going on.  We’re headed somewhere top-secret and if you don’t cooperate I’m going to get the pointy end of her _D’k tahg_.”

She took him by the shoulder and led him to sit on the edge of his bed.  “You know that I will do anything and everything I possibly can to keep you safe.  I will never let any harm come to you.”

“I know,” he said.  “I’m not worried, I mean she’s threatened me before.  Besides, Tom says that I’m much more valuable alive anyway.”

She cupped his face in her hands, stared into his once innocent brown eyes.  How mature this small boy had become in just a few short years.  Even with how desperately she had strived to isolate him from the workings of the Alliance and the occupation of Earth, her role and the position she had put them both in, he was not nearly as unaware as she had fooled herself into believing he still was.

When she finally released him and pulled back, she could only notice one thing.  “You take after your father quite a lot, do you know that?”

“I know,” he sighed.

Kat was about to go on about how he shared his Chakotay’s physical features, his intelligence and perceptiveness, and a million other attributes she’d never be able to properly name, but then she paused.  “How do you know?  I never talk about him.”

“Um… I, uh.  I was just guessing?”  Eddie smiled nervously.  “I mean, I don’t look like you very much so I have to, uh, look like him.  And then there was the time he woke us up in the middle of the night,” he hurried.  “I saw him then…”

Kat narrowed her vision.  “The truth,” she demanded.

Eddie bit his lip.  “Okay, but you have to promise you won’t get him in trouble.”

“Who?”

“Tom,” he admitted.  “Tom tells me about my dad.  About how the colonel – that’s what they call him – is one of the greatest leaders that the Resistance has ever seen.  They fought side by side to beat back the Alliance at the Battle of Paris a few years after I was born.  Oh!” the boy nearly jumped as his excitement grew.  “Did you know that Tom and my dad were in the same squadron during the raid on Terok Nor?  They flew right next to each other!  Tom was dad’s wingman.”

Eddie made a zooming sound and started moving his hands in fighter formation.

Realization dawned on Kat and her jaw clenched.  “I knew your father was there.  I did not know about Tom…”

Eddie nodded, pausing his imaginary battle.  “He says that my dad is one of the bravest people he’s ever met, and he’s a really good pilot too.  And –” he stopped himself suddenly.

“And what?”

“Nothing.”

“Edward Janeway,” she threatened.

“That he loves me very much.  He asked about me just the other day.”


	10. Neither be cynical about love

* * *

B'Elanna was growing tired of the overcrowded fighter.  With nowhere to move, no privacy to sleep, and no real job to speak of, she felt her anxiety rising by the minute.  She re-stashed the book she had been mindlessly skimming and stood, stretched, then relocated to the table.  There, she shuffled and cut the deck of cards then dealt them out into a round of Klingon solitaire.  Halfway through the first game, Colonel Chakotay brushed past the opening in the bulkhead.

He approached the replicator, activated it and said, “'Iw HIq.  Cha’.”

B'Elanna looked up, bemused.  “You’re drinking bloodwine?”

“And so are you,” he informed her as two pewter mugs appeared before him.

“Hoo boy,” she said, taking one from his outstretched hand.  “You know, I never really liked this stuff.”

“These replicators are rather limited, I’m afraid.”

“And they only speak Klingon?”

“That was more for show,” he said with a wink, sitting down onto the bunk.  Then he took a healthy gulp and used his shirtsleeve to wipe his mouth.

B'Elanna winced at the smell before putting the drink on the table.  Even replicated, the pungent odor churned her stomach. “So, how’s it going up there?”

The colonel smiled.  “The Intendant and her minions on the  _Valkyrie_ are still clueless,” he replied.  “And back here?  I understand you and Seska have been giving each other the silent treatment.”

“It was a… misunderstanding,” B'Elanna explained.  “But, actually, I wanted to ask you about your wife.”  The thought of broaching this forbidden subject made her stomach churn nearly as much as the lingering smell of bloodwine.  “How long have you been together?”

“We’ve been married four years.”

“That’s quite a while.”

“Yeah.  I think I’ll keep her,” he joked dryly.  He took another swig from the mug.  With a thud he set it on the table and leaned back on the mattress supported by his elbows.

“How did you two, uh… How did you meet?”

“Side by side, fighting a battalion of Klingons when they raided a Terran resettlement camp near Paris.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“It was bloody.  We lost seventy-six good soldiers.  But, we won.  Drove the Klingons back.  That defeat stung ‘em good, too.  They lost a lot of respect in the eyes of the Cardies that day,” he boasted.  Then his demeanor turned from pride to sorrow.  “I only wish I could have been there a few weeks ago when the city was lost.”

B’Elanna hedged her bets and had to ask, “I don’t mean to pry, but, well.  How much do you really know about Seska?”

“Enough.  Why?  What do you know?”

“I know that sometimes people aren’t always what they seem to be.”

Chakotay narrowed his focus.  “The Seska you know doesn’t look like mine, does she?”

“Not exactly.”

Chakotay looked to the floor and sensing his unease, B'Elanna turned to activate the replicator.  “Raktajino, hot.” 

The drink appeared before her and she cradled it reverently, giving Chakotay time to gather his thoughts.  While he did so, B'Elanna noticed him absentmindedly fiddling with the ring on his left hand.

“Six years ago, Seska was altered to appear human and sent to Earth to infiltrate the Resistance.  She ingratiated herself to us.  Fought alongside us, but was loyal to the Alliance.  She reported on our movements, our strategies, she ratted out some of our leadership.”

“But you knew?”

“Not at first.  First we grew close.  She started to see how our people were suffering, that we were only fighting to take back what was rightfully ours.  That we weren’t the scourge of the galaxy as Alliance propaganda had claimed. 

“We were together about a year when she finally confided in me.  She destroyed her communication device, fingered a dozen other undercover agents, and never looked back.”

“Wow,” B'Elanna breathed.  She took a thoughtful sip of her warm drink.

“I’m the only one who knows about this, and I intend to keep it that way,” Chakotay warned.  “She’s left her past life behind and I’ve forgiven her for it, understand?”

B'Elanna nodded quietly.  “I’m married too,” she confided.  “I have a daughter.  I’ve known war and fighting against the odds for what I believe, but it scares me to think about living in a place like this.”

“Having a child changes your perspective on a lot of things.  And I’m sure that now you want to ask me about my own son.” 

“I do,” she admitted.  “But only if you’re willing to talk about him.”

“To talk about Edward, I first have to tell you about Kat.”  He reached for the bloodwine that B'Elanna had ignored.  “We met at a moonshine bar outside of Bloomington, probably ten years ago now...  I was a recruiter then, trying to get people to support what would eventually be the Terran Rebellion.  The midwest farmers make great soldiers; they’re strong, quick, eager, and bored.  Anyway, Kat never wanted to be part of the Resistance.  I dragged her into it, kicking and screaming.”

“Why would you do that?”

“She was smart, sexy, deadly accurate with a disrupter.  And she was also very lonely.”

“You took advantage of her?”

“Yes.  I absolutely did.  And I regret it now more than anything.”  He looked to the table for a moment then continued on, quieter than before.  “Two weeks after Edward was born, I left on a raider to infiltrate one of the command centers on Cardassia.  I had no way to communicate with her, no idea if I would even make it back alive.  Like an idiot, I told her to do whatever she had to do to stay safe.

“When I returned months later, she was gone.  Just up and left.  No note, no nothing.” Chakotay’s gaze remained firmly fixed on his drink, regret thick in his voice.  “People said she had gone to live with her sister in a colony half-way across the sector.  But she never made it there.

“I searched for them for two years.  It tore me up thinking that they had been captured or killed.  Then I finally began to see that maybe she had taken my advice to heart and had found somewhere to squirrel away so that she and the boy would be safe.  I realized my poking around could put them at risk.  So I stopped looking.”

“I don’t understand, if you stopped looking –”

“There were four of us,” the colonel dove back into his story.  “Seska and two others… It was just after I married her.  Anyway, we infiltrated the Intendant’s palace late one night, set explosive charges in the entire residence wing.  I was on my way out when I heard a voice inside one of the rooms and something made me stop to listen.  It was Kat, she was calming our son down from a nightmare.  There were about ninety seconds until the charges were set to blow.”  He shook his head.  “I couldn’t let them be killed.

“I compromised the operation, warned Kat and got them out.  In turn, Kat alerted security, beamed the Intendant to safety and had me thrown in a prison cell.”

B'Elanna couldn’t peel her eyes away.  Her voice hitched in her throat.  “Did the charges go off?  How did you escape?”

“Oh, they went off.  Killed a dozen of her top aides.  Made a nice mess of the place too.  But we didn’t get our target.  I certainly failed that one.”

“You couldn’t let your son be killed. Surely your comrades had to understand that.”

“No one found out what went wrong,” he said softly.  “Not even Seska knows.”  He attempted a sip from his mug, then realizing it was empty, cast it aside.

“Anyway, the Intendant was on her way to slit my throat.  I heard her footsteps coming down the corridor.  I saw the knife in her hand.  I was ready to give her the fight of her life, then everything just disappeared.  I materialized in the bamboo forest behind the palace and I ran for days.  That’s how I stumbled on the hangar we infiltrated.”

“Kat?”

“I like to think so.  I don’t have any other explanation.”

“She risked her life to get you out of there, just like you risked yours to save her.”

Chakotay shrugged.  “Like I said, we have an odd relationship.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“She smuggled a note to me a while later.  It was a warning, more than anything.  She wants me to stay away, so I have.”

“She’s put you in a terrible position.”

“She has.  I can never attack the Intendant because she’s always right there, with my family.  But I know there’s going to come a time when I’m going to have to choose between my son and countless others who deserves freedom. 

“And I fear that time is close at hand.”

* * *

Chakotay had reclined against the wall and welcomed Kathryn’s head on his chest.  He cradled her close in a position which – while awkward for him – seemed to be the most comfortable for her.  He held her hand and gently ran his fingers through her hair, longing to stay connected to her physically, offering respite from injuries and worrisome thoughts.

After a while she dozed into a quiet slumber and he relished in the sound of her steady breathing. 

Chakotay was just succumbing to his own heavy eyelids when he heard the outer brig door slide open and footsteps approaching.  His whole body tensed painfully with a shot of adrenaline.

“You're dismissed,” came the familiar voice.

Chakotay extricated himself from underneath Kathryn.  He carefully laid her down on the cot, adjusted the blanket, and then made his way to the forcefield where Kat was waiting, oddly patient.

“Come to steal something else from me?” he asked pointedly.  He thrust his hands into his pockets and turned them inside out.  “’Cause I’m not sure I have a whole lot left.”

“I was listening in on your conversation earlier,” she said, a wisp of penance in her voice.

He drew a metered breath, tempering his anger.  “Of course you were.  Hear anything interesting?”

“A few things, yes.”

“Anything interesting enough to make you feel, oh, I don’t know.  Regret?”

Kat balled her hands into fists and looked to the floor.  “It's important to me that you understand how I ended up here.  Why I’ve done what I’ve done,” she admitted.

“A rather irrelevant point, isn’t it?”

“Not to me.”

Chakotay sighed.  “Fine then, what do you want me to know?”

Kat licked her lips.  “Just that… if I had seen another way out, especially in the early days, I would have taken it.  Chakotay left and I thought he was never coming back.  Nowhere on Earth was safe enough.  I saw an opportunity to flee, so I did.”

“I don’t understand.  You mean you left Earth?”

She nodded.  “My sister and her family had escaped to a colony on the other side of the Cardassian border.  I was trying to make it there, but we were intercepted by an Alliance vessel – by the Intendant herself.  Everyone I was traveling with was enslaved or killed, but she took pity on me because of my baby.  She offered me my first real chance for stability and safety… and I took it.”

“And your safety justified making a deal with the devil?  You re-sign that contract every single day that you do her bidding.  Don’t tell me in all those years you didn’t have any other alternatives.”

She swallowed hard.  “I had one.  Once.  But he had a ring on his finger, and I panicked.”  She looked as if she were pleading for him to understand.  “You’re not a parent.  You don’t know what it’s like to have that life in your hands.  I’d protect Edward at any cost.”

“You’re right.  I’m not a parent, but I’ve certainly been responsible for other people’s lives.  I agree, it doesn’t lead to easy decisions, but that’s when holding fast to your principles helps to guide you.”

“I didn’t have many principles back then, other than staying alive.  And it’s a little too late now.”

Chakotay paused, wanting nothing more than to draw the woman close.  For all she had put him through, and with such power and cold-hearted determination, she appeared now to be nothing more than broken, trapped, and scared.

“If there's one thing that my Kathryn has taught me,” he said after a moment, “it's that there is always a way and it's never too late.”

She lifted her eyes to his.  “Chakotay,” she asked, hesitantly.  “If I asked you to trust me, would you?”

He bit his lip.  “That depends.”

“Does _my_ Chakotay have a role in this?  Did he lead her to you?”

He paused, considering her motivations.  Then, he took a leap of faith and nodded.

“Thank you,” she said softly.  She looked to him with genuine remorse once again, and then she turned to leave.

“Tell me something,” he rushed, stopping her steps.  “Did you ever love him?  I mean… _really_ love him.  Or was it all just an inconvenience?”

She glanced back and for the most fleeting of moments he forgot that this version of Kathryn was not his own.

“Oh yes,” she whispered.  “I loved him.  Very much.  But trust and love are two very different things.”

* * *

An hour after making her confession to Chakotay, Kat closed the book she had been reading aloud and carefully extracted her arm out from underneath where the little boy had fallen asleep against her.  She swung his legs up onto the cushions and wedged a pillow under his head.  Then she covered him with a throw and placed a lingering kiss on his forehead. 

Pulling herself away, she padded softly into the next room. 

The water from the sink felt cool against her face but did little to ease the nauseous feeling which had crept into her gut.  Looking up, she caught her reflection in the mirror.  Fingertips dancing above the scar along her cheek, she thought back to the Intendant’s absolute control and how before long she might finally be free from it.

 _Soon,_ she thought _.  Soon this nightmare will be over_. _It has to be._

Her son would grow up without his mother, but at least he would know that she did the right thing.  His father would see to that.

She slipped her uniform jacket back on, stepped into her boots and cast one final glance at Edward before leaving her quarters.  There were only a few hours until the Intendant would be awake, and she had quite a lot of things to arrange before then.

* * *

“Chakotay,” Seska called back from the helm.  “The _Valkyrie_ is transmitting new orders.”

The colonel rose from where he and B'Elanna had been playing cards and moved forward with her in tow.  “What are they?”

“They’re coordinates, but they’re the same ones we already have.  Why would they resend them?”  Seska wondered aloud. 

The colonel’s expression soured.  “That is very strange.  You’re sure there isn’t anything new in the message?”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Let me take a look,” B'Elanna offered, happy to finally have something to do.  Gunny slid away from his console and she replaced him, her fingers deftly working at a decryption algorithm.  “There’s another layer to this message.  Hang on, I’m trying to extract it.”

Seska stole a questioning glance at her husband.  “Do you think…?”

He shook his head.  “I don’t know why she would.”

“I’ve got it,” B'Elanna exclaimed.  “It’s audio only.”

 _‘Chakotay,’_ came the hushed, but unmistakable voice of Kathryn Janeway.  _‘I know you’re out there.  I want to make a deal.  Get our son off of this vessel.  Get him away from here, as far away as you can, and I’ll make sure that the weapon is destroyed.  Do this for your son, Chakotay.  Do it for me.  And if that’s not enough, then do it because if you don’t, I’ll expose you, Tom, and all of the other operatives you have in this Alliance.  All of them.’_


	11. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans

* * *

Kat’s instructions for transferring Edward were painfully precise.  Less specific was how she would ensure the destruction of the artifact, and there had been nothing said at all of Janeway and Chakotay.  Neither of those issues seemed to bother anyone as much as they did B'Elanna.

“So,” Seska continued working through their part in the plan.  “She blinds the fighters, we de-cloak, transport Edward, and then high-tail it out of here…”

“That’s great and all,” B'Elanna interjected, “But how am I supposed to get my people back?”

“That’s where her plan falls short,” Seska agreed.  “She doesn’t know we want to get them out.”

B'Elanna pounded her hand on the back of the chair.  “Damnit, I wish there were some way to send a message back to her.”

“We can’t risk being detected,” the colonel reminded.  “It’s a miracle she transmitted to us in the first place.”

“How do you think she’s going to dispose of the weapon?” Gunny asked, still at the helm station.

“She’s going to self-destruct the ship,” Seska said, matter-of-factly.

“What?” B'Elanna gasped.

“It’s the only way she’ll keep that weapon from being used,” Seska began.  “The Intendant is all but untouchable, even to her second-in-command, and at this point I’d be surprised if those artifacts weren’t under her pillow or in her pocket.  But, there are ways to destroy that vessel from the inside...”

“What if Kat just walked up, blasted her, spaced the artifacts and took control of the ship?”  B'Elanna countered.  “It’s crude, but I’m sure she has options other than blowing herself up.”

Chakotay shook his head.  “Even if Kat succeeded in killing the Intendant, the others on the ship would still complete the mission.  They’re loyal to the Alliance, not Kat, and would gladly walk into their own grave for the cause.  Not to mention that if Kat murders the Intendant, their cause will also include hunting down Edward as revenge.”  He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair.  “I’m afraid I think Seska’s right.  Kat’d want to make a clean sweep of this.  She wouldn’t leave it to chance.”

“If she self-destructs that ship, _my_ Janeway and Chakotay will die too.”  B'Elanna’s voice faltered.

Gunny swiveled in his chair.  “Excuse the stupid question, but can’t we grab them at the same time as the kid?”

“The ship may be lowering its shields, but the brig won’t,” Seska reminded.  “We’d have to disable the force-field to get a lock.”

"And they'd all need to be standing together, we can't do a multi-location beamout with this transporter," B'Elanna informed.

“Slightly less-stupid question,” Gunny started again.  “You’re sure this isn’t a trap?”

“I have to trust her,” the colonel said.  “She knows we’re here.  There’s no reason for her to keep our presence a secret.  If she’s trusting me with Edward, she’ll hold up her end of the bargain.  Which means we need to be ready to move into position, and soon.”

“You can’t possibly be thinking about going through with this!”  B'Elanna threw her hands into the air. Had there been room, she would have paced.

“I’m open to suggestions,” the colonel said.  “But you agreed before we left Earth that destroying this weapon had first priority over the rescue of your people.  Don’t tell me now that you’ve changed your mind.”

B'Elanna shook her head. “I haven’t.  But I’ve seen Janeway and Chakotay pull themselves – pull me – out of much more dire situations with nothing more than a hope and a prayer.  I can’t just let this plan go off as is, not without _some_ attempt at a rescue.”  She looked back up to the colonel.  “And you… You care about Kat, don’t you?  You said yourself that you tried to find her for years.  At the very least you can’t want your son to grow up without his mother.”

Colonel Chakotay glanced hesitantly to his wife.  She offered him a small smile and put a reassuring hand on his back.  “She’s right.  They need each other.  After everything she’s already sacrificed for him…” B'Elanna saw Seska swallow hard before continuing.  “I know what it’s like to be on the wrong side and want out.  You gave me that chance, she deserves it too.”

Gunny, apparently having no opinion worth voicing, began tapping commands into the console furiously.

“We come out with everyone,” B'Elanna stated, standing her ground.  “Or with no one.”

The colonel closed his eyes and shook his head.  Then slowly, he checked the faces of B'Elanna and Seska, standing resolute beside him.

“Fine,” he said eventually.  “We’ll get everyone.  But we’re going to need options.”

“Options… he wants options…” Gunny muttered, not lifting his head and still making frantic calculations.  The other three turned to look at him and B'Elanna cocked an eyebrow.  A moment later, the man swung in his seat, a proud grin on his face.  “How about _one_ option?”

* * *

“Let’s go over this again,” Colonel Chakotay began.  “Kat will flood this area of space with nadion particles.  There’ll be a ten-second window where everyone will be flying blind and she’s going to disable internal sensors.  Gunny will move us into the new position he's calculated and drop cloak.  We’ll snag Edward, then beam ourselves over.  Gunny gets back into formation –”

“There might be a problem…” B'Elanna said, shaking her head.  “I’ve been trying to work this out and I just don’t think we’re going to have a shot at two transports.  This unit was made for emergency evacs - get the guys out, but not much more.  By the time the buffer is purged, the Intendant’s vessel will have their sensors back online.  We’re barely going to squeak one beamout, let alone two.”

The colonel furrowed his brow.  “I guess we use the time to go over.  We’ll have to bring Edward out with us when we leave.”

“Okay, keep going,” Seska said. 

“We'll beam into Kat’s quarters so I can get my son.  From there, you and B'Elanna will head to the brig via the access tubes,” the colonel pointed to the path on the internal map.  “Free them and then lie low until I tell you where to meet me.  I expect I’ll have to retrieve Kat from somewhere in the process…  Gunny, watch for those shields to drop again and get us the hell out of there.  I don’t want to be onboard when she blows.”

* * *

Kat left her quarters and walked with solitary purpose to the aft torpedo room.  She drew nary a glance from the other crewmembers as she passed, but she felt the weight of each step matched the quickening beats within her chest.

In the back of the bay, while feigning an inspection, she deftly misaligned and activated the nadion injectors on a half-dozen warheads.  Then, with a grunt of approval to the officer stationed in the front of the room, she retreated without looking back. 

Kat’s next stop was the bridge, but to her momentary panic, upon arriving she found the Intendant was already in her chair, much sooner than expected.  The half-Klingon had apparently chosen to have her next meal there - a veritable feast laid out on a silver tray in her lap.

“I… Intendant,” she stammered before composing herself.  “You’re early.  I trust that means you’ve been able to rest well...”

“How long until we reach the Iconian system?” the Intendant barked without looking back.

“Thirty-seven minutes,” the helmsman replied. 

Kat glanced to the time.  _Ninety seconds until that alarm should go off_ , she thought.  They were quite possibly the longest ninety seconds of her life.  Her face began to feel hot.  Despite knowing what to expect, when the computer finally alerted with a chirp, Kat jumped. 

“What the hell is that?” the Intendant barked.

“There’s been a buildup of nadion particles in the aft torpedo room,” the weapons officer replied.  “The compartment will need to be vented.”

“Nadion particles will blind our escorts and our aft sensor array...  Alert the fighters,” Kat ordered without missing a beat. 

“They’ve been notified,” replied the woman at ops.

The Intendant leaned back in her chair and ate from her plate of fruit. 

“Vent the tubes,” Kat ordered.  “Then get someone down there to make sure our weapons are still operational.”  She inconspicuously rested her fingers on the three-key sequence which would bring down internal sensors.

“Yes, Inquisitor,” replied the oversized and greying Klingon to her left.  “Exhausting the compartment.”

Kat tapped the console and looked to the time index.  Ten seconds passed with internal sensors down, but with the distraction no one seemed to notice.  She reactivated them again and released the breath she had been holding.

“Venting complete,” informed the tactical officer.  “Armament room reports that six of the torpedoes had leaky injectors.”

“What the hell are your people doing down there, T’Kang?”  Kat spit.  “Picking their teeth?  Did they not notice that there was a problem?  Are they trying to blow up the entire ship?”

“I’m uncertain, Inquisitor.”  The tactician was growing irritated.  “They’re working to fix the problem now.”

“And we’re to trust that these same incompetent fools will be able to adequately see to repairs?” Kat prodded.

“Get down there and supervise them if you have concerns,” the Intendant said without turning around, licking juice from her fingers.  “I want nothing about this journey left to chance or idiots.”

“Yes, Intendant,” Kat said, scowling once more at the weapons officer before taking her leave.

Instead of reporting as ordered to glare at the weapons technicians, Kat went straight to her quarters.  She stood before the unopened door a moment, bracing herself for what she would find inside – or, rather, who she wouldn’t find. 

Her quarters would be empty. 

Her son, gone. 

Her life all but over.

 _It was the right choice_ , she reminded herself.  _He’ll be safe now and I won’t be a party to annihilating the multi-verse._

The door slid open before her.  But instead of emptiness and sorrow, she was greeted with two people locked in an emotional embrace. 

Only one word sprung to mind.

“Fuck.”

* * *

Disabling the guard in the brig was laughably easy.  He had fallen asleep at his station and went down with a whack from the butt of B’Elanna’s disrupter without ever having woken up.  B'Elanna could only hope that the rest of the security on this vessel would turn out to be so lax.

Chakotay and Kathryn were wrapped up in each other, crammed precariously on one of two narrow bunks.  The admiral was nestled into the front of him, face buried in his chest and he had his arms protectively cradling her close.  So at peace, they seemed, that B'Elanna hated to wake them. 

Hated to, but had to.

Seska deactivated the forcefield from the guard’s console and B'Elanna crept in.

“Chakotay,” B'Elanna said, touching his shoulder gently.  He came around slowly and reluctantly as if first having to say farewell to a pleasant dream.  

“B'Elanna?” he whispered, the fog of sleep leaving him.  “You came…”  He turned his attention to the unmoving form huddled against him.  “Kathryn,” he said, nudging her. 

Kathryn pulled herself awake with a groan.  B'Elanna couldn’t help but notice how pale she appeared, though upon realizing they were to be saved, she looked as if she might weep with relief.

B'Elanna knew that time was of the essence; they had to move, yet she couldn’t help but steal a hug from her friend.  “Chakotay,” she breathed again, wrapping tight around him.  She relished in the feel of his rough beard on her cheek.  “You have no idea how good it is to see you.”

“And you,” he agreed.  “You are a sight for very sore eyes.”

“What’s the plan?” Kathryn asked, seated and peering around the side of the cell.

“We’re going to lay low.  Wait to hear where we’re going to rendezvous,” B'Elanna said.  “Colonel Chakotay is gathering Kat and Edward, she’ll disable the shields and we’ll be beamed back to the escort fighter.” 

B'Elanna turned her attention back to Chakotay.  “I’m not going to bother asking her,” she motioned to Kathryn.  “She’ll just tell me she’s fine.”

Chakotay nodded with a knowing expression.  “She’ll be alright, for now.”

Seska stepped out from behind the guard’s station.  “We should go back the way we came,” she said.  “There’s a weapons locker just down the hall from here, it’s large enough to keep us hidden and well-armed.”

“Seska?” Chakotay breathed.  His elation at having been sprung from captivity morphed into a distrustful frown.

“Hello, Chakotay,” she said softly.  “B'Elanna speaks very highly of you… I’m glad we could finally meet.”

B'Elanna noted that Kathryn’s hand had moved protectively to his bicep, as if holding him back from an anticipated, ingrained response.

“Don’t make the mistake that I did and judge her on looks alone,” B'Elanna kindly warned.  “She’s the reason we’re all making it out of here alive.”

* * *

“Mom?” Edward’s shy voice asked.  Colonel Chakotay, who had been holding onto his son so dearly, finally let the boy go.  “Is he telling the truth?  Is this really my dad?”

Kat’s jaw was clenched painfully tight and she found herself unable to look directly at either of them.  “Go to your room, Edward,” she ordered through gritted teeth.

“But Mom, I –”

“Go.”

The boy huffed and stomped away and the colonel stood from where he had been kneeling.  The moment Edward’s door slid shut, Kat began to shake with unrestrained fury. 

“You were supposed to get him off of this ship!” Kat closed her eyes and balled her fists in a vain attempt to control her rage.  “What are you doing here?  You are ruining _everything_.”

“I was going to follow your plan,” the colonel responded with forced calm.  “And then some people made me realize that my son needs his mother.  So I am here to rescue both of you.  A _thank-you_ might be nice.”

“Thank you!?  How, _exactly_ , are you planning to rescue me and get rid of the Iconian device?” she fired back.  “And don’t lie and say that you’re willing to let the weapon be used as planned.  I’m sure you know it would end your precious army of imposters.”

“Oh no, that weapon is priority one.  We have a plan, but we’re going to need your help.  But that means that you have to calm down long enough for me to talk to you about it.  Do you think you can do that, _Inquisitor_?”

At the sound of her title being used in vain, Kat growled.  “We?  Just how many other people are involved in this epic disaster of yours?”

“For starters, the B'Elanna Torres of the other universe who wants _her_ Janeway and Chakotay back.  She, along with my wife, are on their way to free them as we speak.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Kat rubbed her brow.  “You married a traitor, Chakotay.  And then you brought her back here?”

“We can debate the irony of my history with traitors later.  Right now we're running out of time, and if we don’t want to go down in a _Valkyrie_ -sized blaze of glory, we’d better get moving.

Kat shook her head.  “What are you talking about, _Valkyrie-sized blaze of glory_?  Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just alert the guards to your presence right now and end this.”

“You’re not going to turn us in,” the colonel said calmly.  “You’ve already decided that obliterating the multi-verse is wrong.  You’re planning to destroy the ship, are you not?  Self-destruct or some such?  Certainly you have that set up by now and the clock is ticking.”

Her eyes popped wide.  “No!  I wasn't going to blow up the ship, are you insane? How would I orchestrate something like that, Chakotay?  Just walk onto the bridge and say “Hey, computer, blow us up in a couple minutes, okay!?”

“With a bit more finesse, I’d hoped,” the colonel’s expression turned to one of confusion. “But if you weren’t going to eliminate the artifact by destroying the entire ship, what were you planning?”

Kat was about to throw back an answer, but then she suddenly demurred.  “I… I wasn't sure yet, I had a couple of things in mind.”

Now it was his turn to rage.  “You had a couple of things in mind? We're going to be at the planet in less than twenty minutes. When _exactly_ were you going to finalize things?”

“I was thinking of attaching a pattern enhancer to the shielded lockbox containing the artifacts.  Then I’d use the transporter to beam them into nothingness. Of course that would be tracked back to me so I'm as good as dead, but at least the artifacts are gone and the universes will be saved. I had hoped – no, like an idiot, I trusted – that you would get Edward far enough away to be safe.  But now all that is gone to shit, hasn't it?”

The colonel swallowed and took a moment to think over what she had just said.  “You actually trusted me to keep him safe from the Intendant’s wrath?”

She nodded, suddenly regretting that very decision.

“I didn’t think…  I didn’t think you would.”

“I know we didn’t end well, Chakotay, but I always believed that you cared about him.  And tonight, when I learned you have been passing messages through Tom...  It finally clicked.” 

“We can come up with a plan that will work, but we’ll have to do it quickly and do it together,” he told her, taking her hands in his.  The warmth she found there stalled her breath. 

She rubbed her forehead and sighed.  “I don’t know.  I just… It’s Edward.  I don’t know if I can risk –“

He brought his hands to the sides of her arms and squeezed her, meeting her eyes with a tenderness she had come to expect only from his doppelganger. 

“I trust you, Kat.  And deep down you trust me too.  We may have spent the last eight years apart, but we were good together once.  We can get through this if we work as a team.”

* * *

Inside the weapons room, Kathryn, Chakotay, B'Elanna and Seska set about arming themselves as they awaited further instruction.  Seska was remarkably calm, feeling almost nostalgic in the Alliance vessel, but noticed that the other three were starting to show signs of worry.

Chakotay paced alongside B'Elanna, checking and rechecking the sights on his rifle.  Kathryn leaned up against the wall, hunched slightly, apparently trying to conserve energy.

 A subtle shift in the vibration of the decking caused them all to look up.

“Did you hear that?” Kathryn jerked around.  Her quick motion resulted in a gasp against pain, which drew Chakotay near once again.

“The engines have changed frequency,” B'Elanna agreed.  “We’ve dropped out of warp.”

“We must have entered the Iconian system,” Seska realized. She felt the slightest bit of worry bubble from within, but suppressed it quickly.  “Where the hell are they?”

At that moment, B'Elanna’s communicator chirped.  _‘Aft torpedo room and make it quick,’_ came the colonel’s voice. 

Seska turned to the others.  “You heard him, let’s move.”  She led them out into the corridor, staying close to the walls.  “Lucky it’s not far.”

At the end of the hall, the group ducked into a turbo lift.  “ _Hut_ ,” Seska barked at the computer. 

“Nine,” B'Elanna translated for the benefit of the others.

“I take it you know where we’re going,” Chakotay questioned, allowing Kathryn to rest on his arm as they rode.

“I do,” Seska informed him, glancing briefly to B'Elanna.  “But _how_ is a story for another time.”

The lift deposited them as expected, and to Seska’s relief, no other crew members were in sight.  “We’re at the bottom of the ship, not much here.  If Colonel Chakotay and Kat took care of the crew in this area, we might not run into –“

At that moment, two Klingon officers entered the corridor from a side passage, paused momentarily in confusion, and then shouted before charging at the group.

Each of the gang of four drew their weapons and fired, taking down the intruders without hesitation.

“That’s gonna show up on internal sensors,” Seska said.  “We’ve gotta move.”

Disregarding their previous attempt at secrecy, B'Elanna and Chakotay each took one of Kathryn’s arms and together they sprinted the rest of the way.

* * *

“Report to the bridge,” Kat barked at the officer manning the front station of the torpedo room - the very same officer she had breezed past less than half-an-hour ago during her first run at sabotage.

“I’m under orders –“

“To follow my orders,” Kat reminded, without wavering.  “You’re to answer for your previous incompetence while I check your work.”

The officer’s eyes shifted and Kat put a hand on her disrupter.  “Do I really need to repeat myself?”

To her relief, she did not.  She stared at the Klingon’s retreating back for a moment before ducking around the corner.  “All clear.” 

The colonel and Edward followed her into the torpedo room.  “Edward, stay here, put your arm over your face like this and breathe into your sleeve,” his mother told him, tucking him behind a rack of ordnance. 

Once their son was properly hidden, she led the colonel deeper into the room.  “I’ll show you how to sabotage the payloads so they leak nadion particles.  Once we start messing with these, we’ll only have a few minutes before we’re overcome by the gas.  Shortly after that, internal sensors will alarm.  The bridge will lower shields and vent the buildup, allowing us to be beamed out.  If we can fire a volley of torpedoes from your fighter at the ass end of this vessel, it’ll blow.  And hopefully it will take the Intendant’s escort vehicles as well. ”

“Sounds easy enough.”

“I just hope your pilot is paying attention…”

“Don’t worry about him,” the colonel assured while she flipped open an access panel on the nearest warhead.  He watched her intently, memorizing the code sequence she entered, then moved to begin sabotaging the next row.  

They worked quickly and quietly for a minute before he looked up from one of the torpedoes.  “Just like old times, huh?” he hazarded.

“Something like that…” she muttered.

He closed the access panel.  “You… uh.  You cut your hair.”

She paused.  “It’s been eight years, Chakotay.” 

“It looks nice.”

She didn’t know whether to blush or tell him to get the hell back to work, but a change in vibration dismissed both of those thoughts. 

“We just cut impulse engines,” she realized, looking at him with panic rising in her chest.  “We must be at the planet.  The Intendant is going to wonder where I am and that officer is probably on the bridge by now.”

“Just focus on the task at hand,” the colonel reminded her.  “We’ve got this, Kat.”

* * *

The gang of four completed their sprint towards the torpedo room just as their comrades exited, breathing into their sleeves.

“Stand close together,” the colonel directed, his communicator at the ready. 

B'Elanna grabbed Seska with one arm and Chakotay – who was attempting to keep the admiral upright – with the other.  The colonel pulled Kat close, their son huddled between them.

“Three, two, one,” Kat counted down, staring at her chronometer.  A loud alarm began to blare on the wall panel beside the torpedo room door. 

She waited another five seconds, then nodded to the colonel. 

Activating his communicator, he ordered, “Now, Gunny!  Get us out –“

And they disappeared into a shimmer of light.


	12. The changing fortunes of time

* * *

“Shields up!  Full reverse,” Colonel Chakotay shouted the instant everyone rematerialized.  It took a moment for them all to detangle, then he leapt forward through the cramped fighter.

With no time to lose, the colonel threw himself over the chair at tactical and fired a volley of torpedoes at the _Valkyrie._

The Intendant’s great ship reverberated with a massive shudder the moment that the nadion particles mixed with detonating torpedoes.  Once the kindling caught, it spread through the vessel, engulfing it, quickly exploding its complement of armaments and the engines until there was nothing left.

Since they hadn’t been moving at warp, the fuel had accumulated around the vessel before it blew, and the blast rippled through space, igniting the gas, forming a halo of fire.  So bright was the conflagration that everyone on the Resistance fighter had to shield their eyes. 

Caught between the gravitational pull of the planet and the flaring _Valkyrie_ , the five Alliance vessels fought to escape.  In the end, all but one of them had been overtaken, going up like popping fireworks.  The colonel easily targeted the remaining, heavily damaged fighter and took it out with a single phaser blast.

The eager group of survivors pushed forward, crowding behind the control station seats to savor every last moment of the great display.  Only poor Edward was unable to see clearly as he repeatedly jumped for a glimpse at the viewport.  

“We did it…” Kat muttered in disbelief.  While observing the remnants of the ship as they burned out and dissipated into nothing – and with a building cacophony of excitement from the others – her new reality slowly sank in.

“Chakotay!” she exclaimed, suddenly exhilarated by their success.  She spun towards the father of her child.  “We did –“

And then she saw him, completely enveloped in a deep, passionate kiss with his wife. 

Kat almost found it harder to peel away from the sight of them than from the explosion.  Feeling like a voyeur, she turned her attention to the other Chakotay.  He had wrapped one arm around B'Elanna and the other around Kathryn – albeit gingerly – pulling them in close, shaking with relief - their nightmare finally over.

Soon, they would be able to return home.

Only Gunny remained focused out at space, seeming to savor every last bit of debris as it cooled and dissipated into the void.

Despite the joyous occasion, Kat felt very much in a void herself.  With no real place to call home, unsure where they would now fit in, she was left with a mixture of relief, hope, and fear. 

But then, at her side tugged the one person who would serve to center her decisions in the moments and days to come.  “I don’t understand what happened,” Edward asked as she bent low to stroke his cheek.  “Why did the ship explode?”

“There will be time to explain everything, Eddie.  All that matters now is that we’re free,” she said.  “We did the right thing and now we’re all safe.”

At the helm console, Gunny made an ominous sound.  “Um…” he swiveled in his chair.  “I hate to break up the party.  But there are a dozen people down on that planet.  And I swear they weren’t there when we pulled into orbit.”

Everyone froze.

Kat closed her eyes.  “She made it off the ship.”

Her words brought all of their joy to a crashing halt.

Everyone except Kat and Edward pushed forward again, craning to see the sensor readouts.  The colonel jumped into the tactical seat as people began talking over one another frantically. 

_“Can we target her location with torpedoes?” “We’d have to move really close to be sure.” “Run a scan. Is there a half-human down there?”  “Take us in closer, we can transport down and fight on the ground.” “No, there won’t be time.”_

Questions and orders were lost in a flurry of voices and rising panic.

Back pedaling quietly, Kat led her son to the rear of the vessel.  “I have to go do something now,” she said.  “I love you very much.  Stay with your father, he’ll keep you safe.”  She kissed him one final time on the head, turned to the transporter pad and punched in coordinates that would take her to the edge of the Iconian site.

Just before the transporter took hold, she heard Edward shout her name.  Then he lunged forward, falling headlong into her curtain of blue.

* * *

Kat and Edward tumbled backwards onto dusty ground bathed in harsh sunlight.

“Eddie!” she gasped, righting them both.  “Why?  Why did you follow me?”

“I had to come with you.  I have to protect you.”

Wind whipped past them and Kat drew her son near.  Off in the distance, across an arid and hardened plain, she could see the outline of what was likely once a monument.  Toppled by the winds of time, large stones lay in disarray.  She shielded her eyes, barely making out a caravan of figures who were now stopped in the center of the ruins.  

“Keeping me safe is not your job,” she scolded her son hurriedly, “I can’t debate this with you now.  I have to get to the Intendant before she uses the weapon or nothing else will matter.”

“But, mom!”

“Stay here.  Wait for the others.” 

She left before he had a chance to protest.  The ground moving swiftly beneath her feet, she sprinted, kicking up dirt and dust and sand.  Halfway, she freed the disrupter from her belt.

Dry air burned her lungs as she closed the distance to her goal, until the figures she had been so focused on finally came into full view.  The group was made up of Klingon soldiers; they watched intently as the Intendant bent low over a large, stone slab _._

Kat wiped the dust from her eyes with the back of her sleeve. She raised her disrupter and fired but the weapon only made a buzzing sound.  “Shit!” she swore, casting it aside.  Then she retrieved a small dagger sheathed at her thigh.

The Intendant cradled one of the obsidian artifacts in her hands.  It was unmistakable, black as night against a beige canvas.

“ _No_!” Kat screamed, charging toward her goal with the dagger outstretched as if it were a spear.  But her run at the Intendant was short-lived.  The guards closed in, creating a foreboding barrier.

For a moment, coming alone felt foolish, but she knew that the others would have been slaughtered without a second thought.  With luck, the Intendant would accept her personal challenge.  This way she could buy them all some time, and this was her personal score to settle.

The Intendant paused and set down the artifact on the side of the low, table-like slab.  Kat drew a hasty glance and noticed that scrawled across the surface were characters and symbols.  In the center there was a series of indentations which formed a shallow well, already partially filled with the other pieces.

“You,” the leader of the Alliance seethed, and she pushed her way out from behind her line of protection.

“I challenge you,” Kat yelled, stopping before her.  “I’d spit on your honor if you had any at all.”

From her belt, the Intendant pulled a razor-sharp D’k tahg, its curved prongs switched out on flanking sides.  She stepped forward to meet her nemesis.  The guards – most of them grinning at the knowledge of what was about to happen – instinctively moved to form a ring around the two, giving them ample space within which to have their display. 

“What have you done?” the Intendant hissed, brandishing her warrior’s knife.  “You traitor.  You Terran scum.  I _knew_ I never should have trusted you.”

Kat did her best to calm her breath and clear her vision; sweat beaded and soaked her brow.  Fueled by adrenaline, she danced on her toes an arm’s length from the Intendant.

The half-Klingon bared her teeth and growled.  She threw her whole body weight into a lunge at Kat’s center.  Kat spun and swiped at the back of her target’s shoulder, wounding her.

The cut served only to anger the Intendant further.  Before giving her opponent time to retreat, Kat attacked with her dagger again.  Her thrust was quickly parried.  She recovered and used that momentum to land a solid punch against the Intendant’s jaw.

The Intendant recoiled and stepped back, dramatically licking a spot of blood from her lower lip.  “Were you always set to betray me?” the she questioned, regaining her breath.

“I served you well!” Kat countered.  “I would have died for you, but you –“ She bobbed again as the Intendant took an emotionally charged, imprecise stab at her.  When the blade sliced, it tore the sleeve of her uniform.

“You had to bring Edward into this,” Kat panted. “That was where you lost me.”  In thinking about her son, she was reminded just how much was at stake, how much she had endured these last long years.

The Intendant charged again.  Kat dipped and spun awkwardly, crashing into the dirt on her knees.  She rose quickly and took a step back to regain her footing. 

Her foe lunged again, and again, each strike missing its target but only barely.  Kat’s legs began to shake and burn, victims of the lengthy sprint.  She needed to end this fight, and quickly, or risk running out of energy.  As added distraction, she saw others approaching across the plain.

Kat did her best to avoid a run of offensive attacks, but the Intendant simply continued the merciless onslaught.  Her arms felt like lead, the dagger growing heavier with each hasty pass, and her hands shook.  She fought to keep ahold of her weapon and away from the Intendant, ending up in the dirt twice more.

As the group of others drew near, the Intendant bellowed, “Let them watch!”

Kat used the distraction to her advantage and charged.  She dropped a fist on the Klingon’s forearm, causing her grip to falter on the hilt.  The Intendant swung back with a left hook and caught the side of Kat’s skull.  With a sickening crack, her vision faltered and her knees buckled.

A cry of “Mom!” rang out against the otherwise silent courtyard.  Kat lifted her gaze toward the voice, and then knew only pain.

She gasped, but took in no air.

Instead, the thick taste of blood overwhelmed her senses.  She wanted to collapse, longed to feel the ground support her, but was caught around the neck by the Intendant’s icy grip.  Hanging, choking, she tried to look down.  That’s when she saw a glint of sunlight from the barbed knife as it was pulled from between her ribs.

She felt warmth from the Intendant’s finger as it was run against her lips, gathering the blood that was seeping there.  Then she watched in horror as the Intendant let the crimson liquid drip to the ground, before sampling a taste of her victory.

With a shove, Kat was finally allowed the comfort of the hard earth below.  She stumbled back then fell forward on her knees, her cheek slamming into the dirt.

The stillness of the ground was the last, true mercy she would know.

* * *

“Kat!” Colonel Chakotay cried out, rushing toward the circle.  Two of the guards tried to detain him, but he wrestled free.

“He can watch her die,” she spit to the soldiers, sheathing her bloody knife back at her thigh.  “And then, see that he follows her.”

The colonel dropped next to Kat’s unmoving form.  He pulled her into his lap and, trembling, brushed her hair away from where it had matted to the side of her face.  Then he placed a hand over her mortal wound, his careful touch meant not to delay the inevitable, simply an acknowledgment of what was now to come.

“Why did you go alone?” he needed to know, emotion betraying any attempts to stay detached. “Why didn’t you wait for us?”

“It was my fault,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving his.  “My responsibility.”

Blood oozed from the corner of her mouth.  She blinked but no tears fell; her eyes grew glassy and her gaze drifted just over his shoulder at the horizon.  “Chakotay… Our son…” she managed.

“I’ll get him out of here,” he vowed.  “I’ll take him as far away as I have to.  He will be safe.  I promise you.”

She nodded slightly, her mouth betraying a thankful smile, then she reached up to trace her thumb over the place where in another life there would have been a tattoo.  His clasped her hand and brought it to his chest, holding it there, as if a solemn vow.

There was an emptiness behind her eyes as she rasped her final words.  “Forgive me…”

The colonel bowed his head, tears falling freely down his nose and cheeks.  “I did that a long time ago,” he said. 

And he cradled her a moment more, until her last breath.

* * *

Eddie screamed as he witnessed his mother’s form go limp against his father.  Then he tore himself from Seska’s protective hand and bolted for his parents.  A few meters away, he found he could not bring himself to go any farther – to get any closer – and so he remained frozen, an immutable image of the scene burned into his young mind.

What life would be like without her, he couldn’t begin to imagine.

“Edward,” he heard a slick voice say.

He looked up to see his worst nightmare.  He knew that he should retreat back to the others, but instead his fear and sorrow gave way to anger, bolstering his confidence.

“Little Eddie Janeway,” the Intendant hissed, sauntering closer.  “Bastard of the Resistance.”  She laid a hand on his shoulder.  “How would you like to help me build a puzzle?”

His mouth was dry, all of the moisture there usurped for use as tears which were now spilling freely down his rosy cheeks.  With all the frustration of a childhood cut short, he began to rage, “I’ll never help you!” he shouted.  “You _killed_ my mother!!”

“Edward,” he heard someone say calmly from behind - though who the voice belonged to, he couldn’t be sure.  “Turn around and come back over here,” someone else said.

He didn’t obey.

“Why?” he cried, trembling before the Intendant.  He looked up to her, feeling dwarfed by her overwhelming presence.  “Why did you do it?”

“Because she was weak, child,” the Intendant said, calmer than he’d ever heard her before.  She squatted to his level.  “She betrayed me.  She failed you too, you must realize this.”  A Cheshire grin spread across her lips, frightening Eddie to his very core.  “Now, all that was hers is mine,” she breathed.  “And that includes you.”

Sometime in the midst of their exchange, Eddie’s father had abandoned his mother’s body in favor of moving protectively closer.  Eddie saw him be stopped again by the two guards.

“For your first show of loyalty, I’ll ask you again to come help me _build this puzzle_ ,” the Intendant demanded.

“Run, Edward,” his father instructed, straining against the soldier who had him wrapped around the chest.  A second soldier had his knife at the ready.  “Don’t listen to her.  Your mother was strong.  She was the strongest person I’ve ever known and she loved you.  She wanted a better life…”

The Intendant snorted and stood. “I see you’ve met your father.  Nice of him to finally show up, isn’t it?  Such a shame your family reunion was cut short.”  Then her tone changed and Eddie swore she sounded like thunder in the middle of a harsh autumn storm.  “Help me build this puzzle, Eddie.  Or you’ll be an orphan as well as a bastard.”

Eddie didn’t dare glance back to his father.  He had failed to protect his mother, he certainly wasn’t going to get his father killed too.  “Let him go back to the others.  Then I’ll help you,” he said.

The Intendant glared at him and for a moment Eddie wasn’t sure what would happen next.  Then she flipped her hand and the guards released their hold.  The colonel moved cautiously away.

True to his word, Eddie stepped alongside the Intendant.  They inched ever closer to the shallow well where four of the ancient artifacts had already been put into place.  He observed that they truly did fit like a puzzle.

The Intendant took one of the objects in her hand.  “Like this,” she said, then she leaned over the edge and placed it next to another.  “See?  Nothing to it.”  Straightening back up, she handed him the final artifact.  “Your turn.”

Eddie felt the weight of the piece in his small hand.  It was a good bit heavier than he had expected and the surface was so smooth that it felt soft.  He wasn’t sure exactly what this act would accomplish, thrusting one simple stone next to another.  But his mother had given her life, and his father seemed willing to do the same, so he expected the outcome was one he wouldn’t like to experience.

 _It’s just a piece of rock,_ he thought.  Then he turned back to glance at the group.  They stood frozen, as if statues behind the row of guards.  The woman who looked so much like his mother leaned heavily on the double of his father, appearing as though she might collapse; Seska, his father and the _other_ Intendant seemed to want to rush the guards but were holding themselves back.

“Go on, child,” the Intendant prodded.  Her tone betrayed a creeping impatience which made his heart race again.  “Let’s not delay your destiny any longer.  This is a great honor I’m bestowing upon you, you’ll soon be the savior of the Alliance.”

“Edward,” he heard his father call.  “She wants you to do this because she’s afraid.  Be strong, my son.  Be strong and know that whatever happens, it was never your fault.”

Eddie raised the object slowly in front of his face, higher up above his head to the sky, then he turned abruptly and prepared to heave it as far away as he could.  But before he could complete the act, his wrist was caught in an icy grip.  The Intendant growled and lowered his hand – fingers still clenched around the artifact – down toward the well.

Trembling, he released the obsidian and with a resounding thud, the piece reverberated its way into position, completing the dark circle. 

Eddie held his breath, staring down into the mirrored surface.  He felt the Intendant take a step back away from him, but curiosity won out over fear and he stayed where he was.

For a moment, it was as if time came to a complete and deadened stop.

The wind ceased to blow.  A flock of small birds froze, mid-flight in the air above them.

Eddie waited to feel the wrath of whatever it was he had just undoubtedly done.  What kind of fantastical beast would emerge from this cauldron, he could only imagine.

Elongated, immeasurable seconds passed. 

Nothing happened.

Until eventually, time, its reins unleashed, crept forward ever slowly once again. 

The Intendant took a step back, regarded the puzzle with a slanted eye.

Then, a low rumble of the ground below began until it grew quickly into a full grown tremor.

The pieces of obsidian began to melt and mix, swirling pitch and cobalt-blue into a mesmerizing whirlpool.

Eddie felt the people behind him moving in closer, drawn by the indescribable anomaly brewing before him.  He too was drawn towards it, as if it had a gravity all its own, and he fought to step backward, each motion a struggle until he finally broke free and ran for the safety of the others.

The group continued to inch closer.  Kathryn and Chakotay still huddled together, cast glances to each other that made Eddie wonder if they had expected to have been dissolved to salt after his action.  More than anything they appeared relieved.

So enamored were they all with the display, that they failed to perceive another figure approaching from the west.

* * *

She was easily three meters tall. 

Appearing from thin air, stepping through an opaline wall which extended upward from a gap in the ground, she walked with smooth stride toward the group.

Her skin was as dark as the pool of liquid onyx which had apparently summoned her, and she had six golden eyes in two columns down her elongated face.  She wore an expression reminiscent of sorrow against her pursed aubergine lips.  It wasn’t until Eddie looked for them that he realized she had no nose or ears he could discern.

A massive headdress cupped her entire skull, down to her pointed chin and reaching up, not into hair, but around flattened horns.  Eddie wasn’t sure if the crown was part of her body but as it glowed with the same green iridescence as the light radiating from deep within the naked center of her chest he suspected it was.  Slender at the waist, and adorned in ornamental armor with three blades extending upwards from her shoulders, she stood stoically on two spindly legs.

At the end of her wiry arms were long, bony hands and her first movement was to point a finger and sweep the group. 

_“Who summons a Guardian?”_

Though her lips betrayed no movement, Eddie realized that everyone present had heard her speak.  The words impinged deep into his thoughts, felt in his bones.  Eddie shuddered at the experience and covered his ears, though her voice still came through, ringing like a crystal goblet.

_“Who dares use this most ancient of tools to bring about the end of the universes?  Or was it ignorance and serendipity that lead you to this place?”_

She moved toward the swirling lake of tar which had now grown to fill the entire well.

The guard closest to the Intendant drew his weapon and adopted an attack stance, but the great alien simply turned to face him and the man hit the ground.  Once there, he didn’t move, remaining frozen in a posture of penance.

Eddie watched in awe as the remaining guards and guests were drawn closer and closer, obviously not of their own accord, until they were all within a huddled group forming an arc around the phenomenon.

Once everyone had been moved according to her will, the Guardian turned and stared down into the endless pool. 

Without warning, she plunged a whole hand into the mixture, pulling out a tarry sludge which stuck to her skin.  As she did so, B'Elanna, Kathryn and Chakotay buckled over, as if about to be ill.  Seska and the colonel each grabbed B'Elanna and Kathryn by the arm to steady them while Chakotay ended up on his knees.

The Guardian allowed the slurry to drip back into the well. 

 _“You three.  You do not belong here_ ,” she said, pointing to the ones who had been made unwell.  The last of the oily substance fell from her fingertip. 

Chakotay regained his composure and pushed up from the ground.  “I was brought to this universe involuntarily.  These two others are my friends, they came to bring me home.”

“I was the one who used this technology, Guardian,” the Intendant interrupted.  “The other universes, they are threatening this one.  Contaminating us.  They must be eliminated.”

The light glowing at the Guardian’s center of mass changed briefly from green to a deep red and then back again. _“Strong accusations from one who would seek to disable and overtake that which is not hers to claim.”_

“But we –“  The Intendant was about to argue when the Guardian cut her off.

 _“One of you has the power to do what you have set out to do,”_ the alien continued, her telepathic voice a sigh and a song lodged deep within Eddie’s mind.  She moved closer and closer to where the colonel stood.  Protectively, Eddie was urged behind his father’s legs, but he felt the cool rush of air as she approached.

_“One of you holds the final object of which I speak.  Be not afraid, for it is innocence that decides the fate of the universes.  Just as it was innocence that brought them about.”_

_It’s me_ , Eddie realized in astonishment. _She means me_.  Summoning courage, he stepped out from behind his father.  The great goddess bent down before him, outstretching a patient hand.  He met her eyes, and though they did not convey emotion as would a human, he felt from her a deep and abiding love and kindness – much the same feeling as when he was with his own mother.

He reached deep into his pant pocket and retrieved the small, shiny ball he had been playing with earlier.  He considered it for a moment, then placed it in her hand.  Her painted lips smiled at him and he felt warm inside.

“What is it?” Eddie asked softly.

 _“A knihx,”_ the Guardian breathed.  _“Not unlike the one I played with during my own youth.  If you can imagine such a time.  They are an Iconian child’s first glimpse into the wonder that lies beyond their playpen.”_

“Where did you get that?” the Intendant barked.  Her voice was sudden and harsh, and it echoed through the complex.  Eddie's jaw tightened in fear, but he remained focused on the task at hand.

Colonel Chakotay kneeled down beside his son.  “Where did that come from, Edward?”

“A woman gave it to me,” Eddie explained.  “I think her name was Vash.  She told me it was a special marble and that I should be careful to keep it safe.”

 _“Have you used it, child?”_ the Guardian asked.

He thought about her question.  “I've been watching it.  It changes pictures. Sometimes I can see myself in it, or people fighting.  Mostly it shows me places I’ve never seen before.”

 _“Then you have already begun to harness the power,”_ the Guardian said.  Those crowded around her drew even closer still, watching as the alien allowed the ball to rest in her cupped hand.  The light in her chest dimmed and the ball swelled in size to fill her palm, swirling with every color, shimmering as if filled with stars.  

 _“Ah…”_ she sighed, contentedly.  _“The entire universe unveils itself.  Would you like to try?”_ she asked, gazing back down at the boy.  As she broke her concentration, the object shrunk back down to normal size.

“Wow.  Um… yes…”

 _“Concentrate,”_ she urged him, settling the object in his palm. _“Let it guide you.”_

Eddie nodded and closed his eyes.  The ball grew again until he felt the edge of it brush his fingertips.  Soon it filled not just his hand, but also his heart and mind with a warmth and depth of knowledge he’d never thought possible. A rush of visions and smells, textures and emotions engulfed his senses, threatening to overwhelm him. 

His eyes popped open.

“What is it?” the colonel asked putting his hand on Eddie’s shoulder.  “Are you okay?”

 _“He is unharmed,”_ the Guardian reassured.  _“This is the knihx for your universe, one who is called Edward.  What you have witnessed just now is but a single breath in the instance of what could be.  You understand now the power, yes?”_

Eddie nodded, and he truly did understand.  Harnessed within this innocent glass gem was the entirety of their existence.

She rose before him, towering tall once again with a hand upon his shoulder, then she spoke to the group and the sky above.

_“Before me stands a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.  And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt things are unfolding as they should.”_

She turned to Eddie and handing him back the trinket, said, _“Choose.  This was always to be your destiny.”_

“Drop it in the well, Edward,” the Intendant demanded.

“ _Silence!”_ the Guardian ordered, her eyes flaring.

Eddie looked into the marble, made once again normal size and black as night.  He took a moment to consider all that had unfolded before him and the choice he now had to make.  Then he stepped slowly, carefully forward.

He regarded the pool and what had led him to this place for a final moment before turning and outstretching his hand toward the Guardian.  “It’s not mine,” he said.  “Not the marble, or the universe inside it.  And certainly not their universe,” he said, motioning to Kathryn, Chakotay and B'Elanna.  “Or any of the others that this would destroy.”

“No!” the Intendant shrieked, lunging for the boy and the object he still held.

In a move so swift it was imperceptible to the mortals, the Guardian appeared in front of Eddie, standing ready to protect him.  _“This child shall not be harmed,”_ she warned.  _“He has made his choice, and will now be granted protection until the natural end of his days.  Leave him be, or suffer the consequences.”_

The Intendant unleashed a harsh growl of anger, baring her teeth, her ire burning at Eddie.

 _“There is another matter at hand,”_ the Guardian continued calmly.  _“This universe has been receiving others who do not belong by use of the sh’epta’l, another stolen tool from my people.  That dislocation must cease.”_

“Yes!” the Intendant cried, grasping at her consolation prize.  “Yes.  It must.  They’re kidnapping people, a grievous atrocity.  They’ve been swiping innocents to die for their sins.”

The Guardian barely acknowledged the Intendant’s quick attempt at ingratiation, and instead turned to the colonel and Seska. 

_“A battle for freedom from oppression, for the right to exist, is a noble one.  If you are just and true in your quest for such liberties, your cause will not fail.”_

“You’ve seen the future,” Colonel Chakotay questioned.  “You know that we’ll succeed?”

_“The sh’epta’l will no longer serve to displace others for your benefit.  Those who have already come must be given a choice to leave or to stay.  As for the future, it is as fluid as the past.”_

She reached behind to dip just the point of one digit into the swirling black once again, and Eddie surmised that it gave her great pleasure to do so. 

_“The ability to prevail lives within each of you.”_

The Guardian turned toward the Intendant and her protection detail.  _“Go, now.  Through the gateway never to return to this place.  Back to when and where you most belong.”_

The Intendant made no move toward the portal, instead her hand flinched to the still bloody knife on her belt and then froze there.  Eddie couldn’t be sure, but from the expression on the half-Klingon’s face he was fairly certain that the Guardian was speaking to her and her alone.

After a moment, the Intendant stumbled backwards as if she were shoved. 

“Go,” the Intendant told her guards, defeat laced in her voice.  One by one they approached the translucent screen and slipped through into time and place unknown.  The Intendant gave one last terrifying scowl back toward the others and then disappeared after them.

The alien turned to Eddie.  “ _Keep this and you shall remain free, regardless of the prisons you inhabit.”_ Then from her palm she produced the knihx.

“I will,” Eddie said, softly, taking the marble back.  He looked into it briefly but saw only darkness, felt only sorrow, for the person whom he loved most of all. 

“Great Guardian,” he said, his voice meek and humble.  “My mother…” and he turned to look back through the crowd at where her crumpled and bloody body remained in the harsh sun.  There rose a prickle in the back of his throat, his eyes began to sting, and then he heard deep within his mind, _“The past is fluid.  She is not yet too far gone.”_

Colonel Chakotay was already on his way back to Kat’s body.  Eddie watched his father bend low and put one arm under her knees, the other slipped to cradle her shoulders, and then he began his somber march back. 

Eddie clung tightly to Seska’s hand as they stood in wait at the entrance.  “See you on the other side,” the colonel told his son with a weak smile.  To the others, Kathryn, Chakotay and B'Elanna he offered a knowing nod.

Eddie closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and they all stepped through together.

* * *

While Chakotay tried to make sense of everything that had just played out before him, Kathryn, having pushed herself on the Intendant’s vessel and then across the desert, was failing fast.  He surmised that at some point her obviously broken ribs had begun to impinge on her lungs and every other breath was now a painful, choking gasp.  She was pale and weak, leaning on him heavily, and he feared she might soon collapse. 

Chakotay wanted nothing more than to scoop her up, as his counterpart had with Kat, and make a hasty retreat back to where they had transported down.  Gunny was still waiting in orbit, they could be to the nearest colony in hours.  Why he had let her talk him into coming down in the first place, he still wasn’t quite sure.

But, since the Guardian had appeared, pardoning them all from annihilation and promising to return them to where – and apparently, when – they most belonged, he had to trust that Kathryn would soon be able to receive the medical attention she desperately needed.  At that moment, not the ancient technology, not the appearance of a long-disappeared alien species, not even the rest of the multiverse mattered as much as getting her to safety.

The courtyard was eerily empty now with only Chakotay, Kathryn and B’Elanna remaining to feel the hot breeze.  He caught B'Elanna’s eye as they moved past the inky abyss.  She smiled slightly, a gesture he knew was meant to reassure them both.

Unexpectedly, Kathryn tried to pull away and greet the Guardian.  _First contact,_ Chakotay thought, knowing all too well that the urge to properly introduce herself would win out over internal injuries.  But she was unsteady, appearing lightheaded, and so took up his arm again quickly.  He squared them to the Guardian and after another hasty breath, the admiral attempted to steel herself, her voice quiet, but confident.

“I am Admiral Kathryn Janeway… of the United Federation… of Planets.  It is our primary mission… to seek out new life...” she cringed and then swallowed hard.  “We would like to… learn more about your culture… your history… your role… “

Finally, at a loss for words and sufficient oxygen, her knees buckled and she faltered into Chakotay’s arm.

The Iconian’s center glowed blue and then her lips upturned.  Without a word, Chakotay understood that they would never see this race walk amongst mere mortals again, let alone be granted an interview.  Kathryn must have realized the same, for she simply nodded her respect and turned toward the gateway once again.

The Guardian motioned as she had before, and it felt like a steadying hand was supporting them toward the exit.

Clinging tightly to the two people who mattered most in his life, Chakotay left that arid land by way of the portal.  Traversing the incalculable distance between place and time felt like being bathed in warm rain. 

He emerged on the other side rejuvenated, whole. 

And very much alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *portions of the Guardian's speech to Edward were taken from the same poem as the chapter headings. Desiderata by Max Ehrmann.
> 
> As a thank you to all of you wonderful people who have been following this each day, I've also posted the final chapter. Because, let's be honest, I've left you hanging enough for the last 2 weeks!


	13. As perennial as the grass

* * *

The Intendant’s first act – once having being returned to the courtyard outside of her palace – was to disperse her personal guard with word of a bounty for Colonel Chakotay, Seska, and Edward Janeway the likes of which had never been offered before.

Once that very necessary task was taken care of, she stormed up the granite steps of her residence and into the cavernous foyer, dropping articles of weaponry and armor as she marched with singular purpose down the torch-lit hall.

Throwing open the oversized, carved doors to her antechamber, she continued stripping clothing from her body, feeling her fury rise further as she rid herself of the sweat-ridden, dusty garb so drenched in failure.

She tossed open one final set of velvet curtains to find the man she desired, sprawled bare and waiting, just as she knew he would be.  Seeing her, Tom put his hands above his head and the bed cuffs, sensing the presence of flesh, clapped down tightly to restrain him by his wrists. 

“Mistress,” he said with a coy smile.

She let out a growl low in her throat and ran her tongue deliberately over her pointed canines, capturing her bottom lip as she sauntered towards him.

“At least I still have you.”

* * *

A wave of hot smoke hit Colonel Chakotay square in the face.  Unprepared for the change in atmosphere, he gagged and choked, his arms still outstretched, but now ominously empty.  Frantically he looked all around for Edward and Kat.

“Chakotay,” Seska gasped beside him.

“We’re back,” he realized.  “Where did they go?”

“I don’t know,” Seska replied.  “Where is _here_?”

All around them were smoldering pits and spots of burning grass.  In the distance, he could make out buildings and a bridge, also on fire.

“Colonel!” A young woman came running at them from behind.  Face streaked in dirt and grime, dress torn, she shouted to them again.  It was then that Chakotay recognized her as the daughter of another Resistance leader.  _Noelle,_ he thought. _But she was in France… she was killed…_

“You gotta get –“

At that moment a missile came screaming through the valley and they all hit the ground. 

“What the hell?” he exclaimed, looking at Seska.

“When and where we were needed,” she reminded.

“We’re under attack!” Noelle screeched.  “It’s that bastard Vulcan, he’s been moving troops in for the last two days.”  The three righted themselves from the dirt.  “We’ve just fallen back again, General Cavit and my father are both dead, we’ve lost three kilometers so far.  We’ve got no leadership!  Everyone is running scared.  We’re going to lose Paris, and then –”

“Do you have a com?” the colonel interrupted.  She fished around in the pocket of her skirt and produced a mangled, but still functional device.

“This is Colonel Chakotay.  All Resistance fighters, fall back to –“ he placed his hand over the transmitter. 

“Parc de Bagatelle,” Noelle mouthed.

“Fall back to Parc de Bagatelle.  Bring whatever and whoever you’ve got left.  We’re not going to lose this city.  Not today.  Not again.”

* * *

Kat woke in a field of tall grass.  A cool breeze worked with the sunlight to bring her around from what felt like a fuzzy dream.

Her first breath was a gasp.  Her second, a prayer quickly answered.

“Mom?”

The child’s voice came from close beside her.  “Eddie?” she whispered to the blue sky.

“You’re… Are you…” his familiar voice was shaky.  Then she felt a small, warm hand on her arm.  She turned toward him and smiled, taking in the sight of his perfect face.

“I’m okay,” she said, slowly sitting up.  She felt her chest, but found no wound there to speak of. 

“What happened?”

“The Guardian,” the boy said, voice thick with disbelief.  “She said you weren’t too far gone.”

“Guardian?” she ran a hand through her disheveled hair.  “I… I don’t remember.”

“She was amazing.  She showed me… everything.  Then she promised to send us all home.  But I don’t know where my father is, or Seska.  They were right there with us, he was carrying you and now…”  Edward continued to look around but there were no other people to be seen.

“Home?” Still feeling weak and out of place, she pushed up and took her son’s arm to get to her feet.  “This isn’t home.  Where are we?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been here before.”

Standing above the pasture, she gained her bearings.  A large, low sun was either rising or setting over a mountain range to her left.  The air was crisp and clean, the wheat-grass a beautiful golden-brown.  If they were on Earth, it wasn’t like anywhere she’d ever visited. 

To her right at a distance of some hundred meters, she spied a cluster of squat, stone houses.  That’s when she realized.

“We were on our way here once.  A long, long time ago.  But we were… delayed,” she said softly.

Kat took her son by the shoulders and squared him to the sight, with an outstretched hand she pointed, “One of those houses, I’m not sure which, but we’ll find out…  One of those belongs to your Aunt Phoebe, and Uncle Mark, and your cousins.”

She knelt down, hugged him tight and placed a kiss in his dark, black hair.  “Whoever sent us here was right.  We are home.”

* * *

B'Elanna could have predicted her final destination simply by the Guardian’s promise to lead them where they were most meant to be.  And when she emerged on the other side of the portal, she realized that she was right.

“Maaa ma!” she heard, along with the sound of little feet pattering, running, tripping and falling.  Then “Ma ma!” again.

The air was cooler here, and blissfully fresh with a perfect sun hung low in the sky, painting the horizon with brushstrokes of pink and orange.  She stood a moment on the front porch of her house in San Francisco, the door already open as if bidding her to enter.

From a distance, the tiny voice and footsteps to match, grew louder as the little girl rushed through the entryway. 

B’Elanna smiled, a warm, radiating love threatening to burst her chest wide as she stooped to intercept her daughter.  “Baby,” she cooed, scooping Miral up into her arms.  “Mommy has missed you so very much.”

* * *

Kathryn had been leaning heavily on Chakotay as they passed through the gateway.  The loss of him when she emerged on the other side caused her to stumble, and she just barely caught herself against a wall.  Regaining composure, she cautiously felt her side and realized that she was no longer injured, nor were her clothes dusty and worn.

As a test, she took a deep breath and exhaled, finding it a great relief to be able to take in the proper amount of oxygen after so long without.

“Chakotay?” she asked, down the narrow, empty hall.  It took a moment to register that she was in the historic apartment building where Chakotay lived, standing right outside his door.

The Guardian’s words echoed in her memory, _‘Back to when and where you most belong.’_

Kathryn keyed in the entry code and the door slid open.  The room inside was only barely lit by candles.

“Kathryn!” Chakotay exclaimed, rushing to her from the computer console in his kitchen. 

“Oh, Chakotay,” she sighed in relief.  Then she met his embrace and squeezed him tight as if making sure he was real. 

He hesitated, pulling back for just a moment.  “Are you okay?” His eyes traced her all over, searching for signs of her previous injuries.  “We should get you to a doctor.”

“I’m fine,” she assured.  “I don’t know how…”

He relaxed a bit at seeing how easily she moved again.  “I might have an explanation,” he informed her.  “I just heard from B'Elanna.  She’s at home, safe, and she told me to check the date.”

Kathryn’s brow furrowed and she reached up to touch his clean-shaven face.  “You lost something,” she commented.

“Computer, what is the date and time?” he asked.

_“Today is Tuesday, March 4 th 2379.  The time is 1904 hours.”_

Kathryn drew her gaze to meet his.  “That’s…”

“The day before you left for Rikarri; the day before Professor Lichten asked me to go on an expedition…”

“We had a date at 1900 hours.  I remember it.”

“So do I.”

They stood in silent contemplation for a moment and then Kathryn spoke.  “Kat and Edward?  Colonel and Seska?”

Chakotay shook his head again.  “I don’t know.  But if the Guardian sent us back, and she said that Kat wasn’t too far gone…”

“She must have sent them back too.  Probably before the artifacts were even found.”

“I’m not sure how that works,” Chakotay admitted.  “All I really care about is that we’re home.  We’re both safe, B'Elanna too.  The Guardian will see that all of the people who have been displaced are offered a chance to return to where they belong.”

“But we _were_ there,” she stated, as if needing to reassure herself.  “It was real.”

“It was.”

“And we _– they –_ had a son…”

He nodded, expression taking on what Kathryn interpreted as pride.  “A remarkable one.”

“He looked like you,” she realized.  Her chest began to ache.  “Do you think he’ll be alright?”

“He has two parents who love him and are willing to do just about anything to keep him safe.  Plus he has the protection of a Guardian.  I’d say he’s going to be just fine.”

“What about us?” she asked hesitantly.  “What happens tomorrow?”

“I’m not going on any expeditions, I don’t care how tempting they are.”

Her seriousness broke at his response.  “And I’m not going to Rikkari.  That trip was a waste of time.”

“But we will have to file a report.”

“Tomorrow.  We can file reports tomorrow.”

“So what do we do tonight?” he asked, the slightest whisper of hope in his voice.

Her lips betrayed a smile.  “I think I just arrived for our date.”

* * *

The covers of darkness and of satin sheets had long since been wrapped around them, and the lights of San Francisco and of the stars above seemed even brighter than they had before. 

He pulled her close, savoring the feel of all of her against his cooling skin, teasing at her hair as it lay on his chest.  He drew breath as if to speak, but as his lips parted she turned to him and placed a finger there, silencing his thoughts.

“I know what you’re going to say.”

He smiled.  “Do you?”

“I love you.”

He propped himself on one arm.  “How did you guess?”

“I wasn’t guessing.” She gently brushed his cheek.  “I was telling you.  I love you, Chakotay.  I love you.  You won’t have to say that to me again and fear that I don’t feel the same.  And I will do that other thing you’ve asked of me so many times before.  This night, and every one that follows.  I promise.”

His heart light and mind finally unburdened, he wrapped his strong arms around her and relaxed back, laying a single, lingering kiss in her hair. 

And when he woke the next morning, she was there.

* * *

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for following along with this story! I do hope you've enjoyed it!  
> Please note that I have created a "series" for this work because I intend on doing at least one little follow-on piece in this AU. If you'd like to be notified, click the link for the series and "Subscribe".

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter titles and further inspiration from the lovely poem [Desiderata](http://mwkworks.com/desiderata.html) by Max Ehrmann
> 
> Title by David Gray. [Listen to his song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hbSjF2yGsXU)


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